The companions make their way back to the docks after their excursion to the ‘Grey Dawn’, feeling the need to find this Sandoval before it’s too late. They make their way to the Second Son, the local hang-out for the ‘Briny Barnacle’ crew, who they believe Stenner Sandoval to have had some dealings with recently.

Soon within the Second Son, which seems to be a teahouse with a foreign, somewhat exotic vibe. Noticing some small area damaged and blocked off, they attempt to coax information from the staff. Unfortunately their attempts are clumsy and disorganized, which draws the attention of the Teamaster, who ushers them out of the establishment.

There they run into a small pack of sailors, who give them a small amount of grief. The freebooters mention that they intend to see that “Sandoval gets what’s coming to him, no amount of luck from the Lady will save him from that”. They soon depart, hearing rumor that the old seadog may have turned up at the docks.

Hearing that Sandoval seems to hold some stock in the Lady of Fortune, the companions quickly make their way to the re-purposed Chapel of Galindred, where they look for clues. With an invocation almost unnoticed, Sayer flicks a gold coin onto the pile of offerings, which upsets a stack currency, spilling a large portion onto the floor.

There’s a slight shudder, then the foundation of the floor gives way, depositing the companions in a pile of rubble into the depths of the chambers below, long dusted with disuse.

~

They press forward in this quiet place, finding damp rooms of mushroom and foliage in some chambers. Noticing a sign with a language little understood, they pressed on carefully. Unfortunately a misstep triggered a small rip-cord, which besides seeming to cause a sudden clatter beyond, merely puzzled the companions.

Continuing forward they made contact with Jarly Horkuun and the untergnomes, who seemed to be hiding. The two groups were vastly curious about the other, which was much precipitated by the companions giving small gifts of oddities and trinkets. A female untergnome by the name of Boopu knew some small amount of the common tongue and acted as mediator for the clan.

Through peaceful acts of goodwill the companions effectively bought Sandoval from the untergnomes, who who had been found lurking in their kingdom. They had intent to sell him to the “briny folk”, who had in dealings with the untergnomes in the past. Apparently the briny folk had their hideout far in the depths of the “unterplace”.

Boopu led them to the chambers, where they found a half-crazed dwarf begging for the illumination of another candle. He seemed terrified of the darkness that would envelop the cell should his lone lamp go out. Sensing a malevolence nearby, the companions blessed Sandoval, effectively ridding him of any curses that may have gripped his soul.

Instantaneously a shadow spirit flung itself out of Sandoval’s shadow and attacked the companions. They proved more than match in the enclosed space and soon the spirit cast a dimensional shift spell and fled away.

They found Sandoval to be a broken man, anguished by the choices of his young son. He had apparently begun running with those of the Briny Barnacle, a crew of ill repute. Sandoval had come here in attempt to find his son and bring him back. The companions decided to go in his stead and deal with the Briny gang, who seemed to not only be slavers but also seemed to give the untergnomes trouble from time to time.

Resolute in their task, they stayed enjoyed the peculiar hospitality of the untergnomes and prepared for to explore the unterplace.

The companions visit a small cafe in the upper districts of Gorganhelm, hoping to gather rumors. They soon meet a small group of young adventurer women who tell them of the “Grey Dawn”, a ship that has anchored herself in the harbor. There’s talk of dark omens, as not a single soul seems to walk her decks.

Some suggest that it has something to do with the strange elvish ghost who has been terrorizing the low places of the city at night. Others believe it to have something to do with the mysterious sea madness which has been gripping the uncharted seas of the deep south.

They all decide to row out to the ship come sundown. Indeed, they find the vessel to be bereft of any life whatsoever. Splitting up, they search the upper cabins and the lower levels. In the Captains quarters, they find a logbook, cataloging the last several days of the voyage.

From the Log of Captain Horus Magpie, of the Grey Dawn:
- A sailor marooned upon a lifeboat sought passage to Gorganhelm, having barely survived a bloody revolt aboard the “Aquarius” (which he claims to have been lost in the mutiny).
- The sailor, who was recognized to be a dwarf named Sandoval, a lifetime freebooter of common standing. He was thrown in the brig.
- Over the coarse of several days, several crew members go missing, or die in strange accidents. Though none are implausible, the frequency is at first alarming then downright suspect.
- After days of these events, the surviving crew confronts Sandoval, who seems to be suffering sleep deprivation. Captain Magpie mentions that he intends to send him down the plank.
(Here in lies the last entry, which had been penned about three days ago).

Though below deck the scene is mostly calm and undisturbed, several cabins are scenes of bloody murder. Whatever had gotten to the survivors was both thorough and absolute.

Coming back together, the companions sneak down to the brig, ready for what may be lurking in wait. Strangely, they find the cell empty, the wrought iron bars bent and broken outward. With a final sweep of the ship coming up empty, they make haste to make for shore, to find this Sandoval before anyone else be slain.

The companions come together after their adventure in the wilds around Gorganhelm, finding Akasha trying to tend to the spirits of their friends. Though the effort seems have an effect on Baatu, Prince Zorba and Nazeer, Castien seems unmoved. Indeed, the elvish legionnaire seems to have room in his heart only for despair.

The companions seek out a safe place to keep their recovering friends, finding the remnants of an old ship wedged cradled through several trees in the cliffs high above the cove. They take the time to make it somewhat habitable, then continue to familiarize themselves with the city.

Among the destinations, they visit a small chapel in the upper district of Broad-Blade. Though several walls were covered with a carpet of moss and vines, the place didn’t seem completely disregarded. Centering the area was a large statue of a vaguely feminine being. She was surrounded by pieces of currency; some familiar while others must have come from far off lands and foreign societies. A placard nearby labeled the figure as thus: “Galindred, Lady of Fortune”.

The companions return to Gorganhelm, their experience in the strange shrine hanging heavy in their thoughts.

They spend the next week developing their own place in the city.

Sayer the Swashbuckler gains a proctor assignment with the Brass Gambit, serving in the ranks of Captain “Goldtooth” Malloy and his crew.

Witnessing the overly superstitious culture among the denizens of Gorganhelm, The Hand fabricated rumors of the ‘ghost of the elf noble’.

On’ogg spends some time reading some of the books that he has acquired and makes contact with the keeper of Bent Sheaf Depository. The keeper mentions that he will contact a colleague who may be able to shed light on the mysterious scrolls that Ogg had discovered in northern Collabria, who should be able to travel to Gorganhelm within a week or so.

~

The companions then come together at a small safehouse under the control of the Gambit crew. Here the operation officer under Captain Malloy assigns Sayer and his colleagues to look after the first mate of the Gambit, who has been long over due. He worries that the increasingly dangerous roads to the Vuthuk settlements may have something to do with her absence.

The companions set off to find her, following the road until eventually clues of the some struggle draws them off the beaten path. In their search they are confronted by a tribal native, who is attempting to find the beast who had slain his tribesman. They continue forward together after establishing that the lizardfolk would gain his trophy.

They follow signs of some wild beast further into the wilds, before coming on a long abandoned stone pavilion. Suddenly in a flash of movement, a lithe form attempts to flee; the companions and the lizardfolk intercept the figure of a half elf, who they realize is Lecksy the Briarthorn, who seems to in the verge of losing control.

She explains in a panic that she has been inflicted with a strong lycanthropy, which she struggles to contain. The Vuthuk tribesman then attempts to engage her in combat, which is interrupted by the companions casting out the half elf’s curse. It billows forth, taking drawing in the fauna and root around the area and forming a mass of cursed root, which the companions soon slay.

First mate seems wary of returning, lest she bring trouble to her crew. She asks that the companions tell them that she is dead, a request which they comply. She then lays down on the altar of the pavilion and turns to a stone wolf. The Vuthuk tribesman is persuaded to take a trophy from the cursed root, cowing his thirst for vengeance.

The companions set out to find their friend Hopscotch. In a scouting effort the Hand sent their companion Mav to fly over the city of Gorganhelm and search for clues. Mav returned with a few points of interest, where the companions made efforts to investigate.

At the docks they bid on the outcome of a bareknuckle boxing match, then noticed a strange old man who seemed to be heeding their presence. They attempted to give chase, but they lost their query in a float den.

They continued their search, coming to see a public hanging of some scoundrel who had crossed XXXXX. During the spectacle they found the condemned to be a strangely humanoid looking simian creature, looking ragged and dirty. With a certain wonder they realized this person to be Hopscotch, transformed. With a bit of luck and determination they raised some mayhem and freed their friend, who introduced himself as Zorbastoram Elomarroth Davalin, Prince of the Sapphire Isles.

Through an effort the companions relocate their friends into more comfortable billets, at an inn called the Hangman’s Noose, a large raucous establishment in an old converted Imperial prison.

They act quickly when they notice those colleagues in tow have grown in number by one. Moving fast, they confront the peculiar old man who had been following them since their arrival in Gorganhelm. He revealed himself to be Garon Tharr, ex disciple of the Exalted One. He had on a short leash a rather ordinary goat.

He explains that he had long since severed his ties with the Exalted One, having been duped tragically by the powers provided by the Lord of Change decades before. He has as of late, begun hearing familiar whispers foretelling the return of the Exalted One. Through a latent psychic prescience Garon Tharr lingered in Gorganhelm, where he felt the call.

He recognized an elf noble who had been trying to move incognito in the streets of Gorganhelm, looking for passage to a uncharted isle mere hours away. Garon Tharr offered his small boat to the place. Garon Tharr had stayed in the boat, loath to find himself in a place of power for a God he had forsaken. Still he felt the place like a dark and twisted pool. Things apparently got really spooky and he left back, making his way back to Gorganhelm alone, tired row after row.

After his story Garon Tharr explained that he would assist the companions, simply to thwart the rise of the Exalted One. The next morning he brought around his boat, little more than a dingy with a three braced lodge. His goat was already sitting comfortably in the space within.

They made their way out of the bay, needling through large spires of micro-isles, The water a deep crystalline blue. The weather was pleasant. They eventually came to a small cave entrance, submerged by a foot of seawater. If the water lines on the rock were any indication, this entrance is hidden by the ocean during anything besides low tide.

The companions led the way, Garon Tharr and Goat following in the back. They found a profane temple to the Exalted One, ominous as all get out. Resisting a terrible wave of energy, On’ogg climbed the steps up to the alter, only to find the desiccated corpse of Magistrate Kellion Zandros. He seems to have been dead for some time.

Considering the implication, the companions and their new acquaintances are disturbed to hear something quake and quiver in the shadows that bath this place. It seems to come from all direction, moving as many but all as one.

The companions continue their voyage to Gorganhelm aboard the Maiden’s Thirst, ship of Hazzar Boracha. There is some disturbance; one of the crewmen tries to commandeer a small vessel and strike a coarse away from the Maiden.

On’ogg and Sayer subdue the crewman, who seems to be gripped with some insanity. The news ripples across the ship, shaking raw the nerves of the other crewmembers. Captain Hazzar discloses that there have been ominous rumors of some strange sickness striking from random sailors their grip on reality.

There is a guard set as they tether the small vessel in tow behind the Maiden. Bound tightly, the poor sailor is set out where they can be safe from any contamination. During their watch,the Hand uses their knowledge of the arcane to subdue the madness for a time, finding the sailor scared out of his wits.

The Hand rushes to alert the rest of the companions, who return to find only the line some distance back, a flimsy scrapping of wood bouncing in the surf.

~

The next day the Hand asks Akasha to join them in a small ritual. The Hand lays strange runes in the under-space of the forecastle. The two find themselves transported to a terrible, dead wasteland. They explore a bit and find a strange monolith of sorts, a peculiar light emanating from within passageways within.

They harden their resolve and venture into its depths, finding to their surprise the mystical figure of Baelmar, trudging around his workshop. He answers some questions long unasked, provides some semblance of refreshments and sends the travelers back to the mortal plane.

~

The next day the Maiden arrives in Gorganhelm, where they disembark, taking note of how to contact Captain Hazzar again if necessary. Having spent some portion of his youth in the city, Sayer directs them to the Olde Moldy, a tavern of some ill repute. They eat a few peanuts, turn coin over for a drink more hospitable than the standard grog and enjoy a small poem for what must be a local vagrant.

They discover the forlorn figure to be none other than Baatu, a hollow reflection of his jovial self. He was scarcely recognizable underneath what seemed to be weeks of grime. In a daze, he brought the companions to a small cove on the far end of the long set breaker, where they find a dilapidated hovel.

Within they find the sluggish form of Wilhelm von Keurig slumped near Nazeer. The elvish magi stumbles for a stick clumsily; his eyes were milky white and unresponsive. A great burden seems to have ground their souls into destitution. They pleaded for the companions to find Zorba, who is past due in his exploration of the area.

The companions lay hidden in the room where Akasha had been stabbed, deliberating on their course of action. Surely the Magistrate must pay for this catastrophe, but were they in a position currently to do more than forfeit their own lives?

Suddenly their conversation is cut short as a pair of the large guards clad in elaborate armor stomped their way up the stairwell. The Hand quickly casts an all encompassing invisibility spell over the companions. They seemed intent on finding the survivors, investigating the lifeless corpses of the assassins with a treatment as though they were no more than rag dolls.

When they are clear from the immediate danger they used the ropes that still hang outside to descend down to the grounds. They found it both dark and quiet, their boots settling in the softness of well manicured grass.

They followed Akasha’s lead as she wound her way through the city towards the docks. She utilized side streets and alleys, as the main thoroughfares were heavy with city guards and emergency fire patrols.

They came to the small customs office on the docks, where they believed Hazzar Boracha to have been deterred. Sayer relieved the guard of his weapons. Though trying to be subtle On’ogg still caught the attention of the guard, who the Hand quickly convinced into thinking he was dreaming.

The companions rushed down and released Captain Hazzar Boracha from his overnight captivity. Apparently he too had been treated less than hospitably.

Once outside, the companions found a port skiff, Hazar showing his prowess in smuggling them within its cargo. Castien Vauldra stopped the skiff near a small salvage vessel who were fishing bodies from the water. He made a note of the lost crew members of the Callehad. They pressed on, Castien using his credentials to push past the blockade to the Maiden’s Thirst, Captain Hazar’s ship.

Within the relative safety of a ship disembarking from a dangerous place, the companions began to consider what was lost.

~

Akasha used what mental energy she could muster to call out to her friends who had been on board the Callehad. To Wilhelm she inquired as to what happened… to no response. To Baatu she asked if he was alright? Nothing still Nazeer she pleaded to, could anyone hear her…? Her words dispersed over the cold dark sea unanswered.

A suspicion begins to grow as they question the two usurpers. Perhaps young Darius wasn’t as victimized as he had let on. Akasha Delithrang makes questions his motives aboard the Callehad. While reading the surface thoughts of his mind he attacks her, lashing out like a trapped animal. He is soon subdued and brought to the keep where the companions find him guilty of murder of his lord father Tharon Vayne.

His sentence of death by hanging is carried out swiftly, leaving the companions within the manor and in disagreement about who should take ownership of the holdings. They decide to table the discussion for a time so that they can keep their appointment with the Legion of Aelosus at Ando’valah.

Magistrate Kellion Zandros receives the companions. He has placed the city under martial law, believing ‘outside elements’ to have abducted Executor Malorne. Assuring them that his agents are working to rectify the situation, he throws a banquet to congratulate the companions on their efforts. He also sets up entertainment, a historical drama known as ‘The WInd & the Flame’.

After the reception party, the companions are seen to private quarters, where all comforts have been accounted for. There is an unease among them; the Magistrate seems to have insulated himself from the troubles outside the aristocratic palaces. They make note to confront the Magistrate in the morning, though they find it cannot come soon enough.

In the night they are attacked by elvish assassins; Akasha nearly succumbs to a series of vicious strikes. The companions recover the situation and defeat the assailants. the Hand manipulates one of the assassins into disclosing who had sent them; she reveals Magistrate Zandros to have made the order and is dispatched by being sent out the open window.

From that same window they notice the Callehad across the bay; the deck is engulfed in flame. Suddenly a massive explosion blows the ship to smithereens, a plume of fire billowing into the night sky. Other vessels shudder and sway from the force as pieces of wood and sail rain down on the area.

01100

The companions continue their voyage south aboard the Callehad. They make a stop at Archon’s Fall, where they see some great deal of construction under way. Calling on Lord Aetherion Tourek, they find the Explorer’s League in expansion. The guildmaster has been upgrading the facilities, fortifying the structure considerably.

They debrief Lord Tourek, who congratulates them on their good work. Wishing to continue their association, the guildmaster assigns Porthios to act as liaison during their voyage south. They convince Lord Tourek of their need and are afforded Morinth for a time, to help with the tracking of Jotun Borzegar and the Aurens. Displaced after the events of the long Night of Lights, it is believed that the Aurens can be allies in the conflict to come.

The companions then continue south to Coldwater Anchorage, the small port-of-call overseen by the Vayne Manor. The Hand visits with Darius Vayne and with a considerable amount of insight is able to coax a semblance of human dignity from the drunkard. During the voyage the Hand gains his trust, finding in him a longing for his Magdella. With her at his side he would set out for a life of adventure.

Within a few days the companions arrive at Coldwater Anchorage, where they device a plan to confront the bandit leader known as Willem the Whistler. They march up to the keep, finding the bridge drawn and the gates barred. Though the Hand is very adroit in posing as young Darius Vayne, scary even, they find those inside less than obligatory.

The companions fall back to concoct a more subtle approach.

With the use of a giant barrel, they make efforts to look as if though they are delivering a huge cask of wine to the Manor. With Akasha Delithrang, Elbanor and Sayer stowed within, On’ogg delivers it through the gates, with the Hand keeping watch from the tree line.

Bearing his share of insults from the crowd of bandits, Ogg blows open the cask revealing his companions within. The Hand joins the fray as the companions dispatch one bandit after another, taking heed to not strike lethal force. Once subdued, the companions forge ahead to confront the bandit leader.

The companions forge forward with the use of Hand’s ability to cast a mantle of invisibility over the companions in conjunction with general scare tactics and no shortage of chicanery. They find the Whistler in the main hall among his remaining outlaws. They seem to have lost the will to fight. Indeed, the Willem the Whistler stalls long enough for his gang to mostly escape, buying the time with his own freedom.

The companions subdue him as well, finding that there seems to be a witch in the manor as well. She had made her presence known when the Whistler had first taken hold of the estate. There seemed to be a truce among the two, as the witch seemed intent to hold the tower as long as she was not bothered.

The companions move through the halls to find this witch, finding the manor in a reasonably good state of affairs, all things considered. The objects of art have been taken down, but not destroyed. The store of goods have been rifled through, but not completely drained.

They find their way to the tower. Though it radiates a certain arcane energy, they find the door locked, no trap set. Moving in they find the place thick with the scent of incense. Eyes adjusting, they note the room to be comfortably furnished. Beyond they find a figure standing on the balcony that surely overlooks the entire area. The figure turns revealing herself to be none other than Xandrilla, the Bane of Thuul.

After their victory, the companions spent some small time with their friends and colleagues at the Alabaster Citadel. There they bid farewell to those whose path would take them away from the companions.

The Hand and Sayer shared some time to bond together, during which time Sayer revealed a certain fear he has experienced, hidden beneath layers of bravado and grandiosity. He also in some ways entertains the idea that he is part of a force that seems capable of great things.

Akasha Delithrang and Nazeer performed a ritual to stabilize the young elf’s forray into the peculiar dream that she had been experiencing. There a peculiar hooded figure made mention of a sleeping entity within the lake, that they were keepers of the being until such a time as he is needed again. The figure also explains that the gifts that Akasha has been experiencing seems part of a greater purpose; that Akasha was integral for some reason. The figure than read Akasha’s mind, gained insight on a particular phrasing that was prominent in her mind, took the form of her friendly badger and propelled her from the Grove.

On’ogg turned in his homework, ‘mostly’ complete. He than made arrangements to continue his study while abroad, using whatever forms of communication that should present itself. Eventually he is summoned with his friends to the vestry, where he is officially sworn into the service of the Order of the Alabaster Aegis. In light of the recent events First Paladin Dhalamus Cayne suspends On’ogg’s formal training, sending him instead to investigate the threat to the World Chains of Agartha in the name of the Aegis.

A short voyage later they arrive at the gates of the city. Disembarking for the purpose of resupplying, Nazeer mentions to the companions that they may gain the help of the Legion of Aelosus within the southern isles. The relationship of the companions and the Legion has become strong enough that the elf sees their undertaking one in the same. He mentions that though Castien agrees with the sentiment, the captain fears that personal favor for certain party members may be clouding this judgement; thus leading to inaction.

Considering this new information, the companions continue into the city proper. There a few things come to pass…

A disorderly drunk is thrown from a tavern.

Elbanor has his hammer appraised, where it is revealed to be one of a set of weapons with a great deal of mythos.

The Hand, taking the face of a young Madrygos buys several exotic fruits.

On’ogg makes an appointment with Garvin Amberhardt.
Sayer, Akasha, Elbanor and Ogg visit the Watering Hole, where they win a large cask of dwarven ale from a boisterous tavern owner.

The companions are seen to Garvin Amberhardt, who reveals that the son of an old acquaintance has unofficial become his charge. The companions lease Mohr Dhoma to Garvin, which will be used for trade purposes by the Amberhardt Mercantile Company. In exchange Garvin explains that young DARIUSVAYNE has lost his father’s holdings to a band of cutthroats. He releases care of Lord Vayne to the companions.

The companions then cause a great scene to draw out the drunken Lord, who they’ve come to know is enamored to some great beauty of a woman named Magdella. Through use the commotion that Elbenor’s hammer had created they dredge Darius from his stupor, absconding with him back to the Callehad.

The companions gathered their allies and ventured north, finally to confront the Exile at the fabled site of Exeter. Though what happened there is known only to those present, it is whispered that someone …or something… scratched quill across papyrus, taking note of everything that had transpired …missing nothing with an insightful eye.

Though beleaguered by the presence of what seems to be a royal dwarf spirit within their friend Sayer, the companions press on deeper. They confront SIRFERRIC deep within the horrid Black Cells.

He had been grossly malformed, carrying plague and death as a weapon against the companions. Entombed in this place in his armor of old, he wore it still; though any adornment or trappings of the Aegis had long been scorched and blackened almost completely beyond recognition.

He claimed to be blessed by some other being and indeed transformed into a powerful creature of darkness late into the encounter. A fetid aura of pestilence hung about him; he invoked powers of plague and disease. Though he nearly brought the group low with his considerable powers of darkness, our heroes were able to vanquish the disgraced knight for good.

As the ascended the dungeons, they came across the wall fresco depicting Dyadorism. With the key they formed in the dungeons below, they found a cache of hidden treasures. They then made the night trek back to the Alabaster Citadel.

Arriving late in the evening, they sent word that The Circle should form first thing in the morning, for they brought news of consequence. Akasha Delithrang investigates some of the mysterious codex, the ‘Castrum Severaturm’. In this codex, she began learning some small introductory information on the Veridian Wardens.

When the elves formed The Conglomerate, there were some who stood apart. They, with the guidance of some benevolent entity, formed the Veridian Wardens, those who rely on the natural world that the Qual’denas, or ‘Those That Came Before’ (as it’s translated from elvish,) have set for the world of man.

On’ogg takes an opportunity to meditate on that which he had encountered below the Old Rookery Station, finding himself on the Citadel crenelations to enjoy the pre-dawn. He watched on the sun rose in between a pair of the Nobles, washing over him with light and warmth.

Soon after dawn the companions traveled to the auditorium, where The Circle had convened. Elbenor recounts their experience, explaining the pestilent state of Sir Ferric the Disgraced. He cautions that the Aegis not forget the depths of the Black Cells, for “a putrid eye had doth turned it’s evil eye upon the black heart of it’s depths”.

The Circle takes heed and Svala proclaimed her justice fulfilled. She takes leave of the counsel, obtaining the storm cleric for a private discussion as she steps away.

As the counsel makes to retire, Sayer steps forward, full of a haughty indigence at having to announce himself. He does so, calling on those of the Alabaster Aegis, an Order that his Lord Father, Thane Olaf Magnus of the Baelstraz held in such high esteem. Sayer’s voice bellows out in uncanny fashion, a glimmer in his eye as he invokes his divine mission to meet with his father’s mortal remains in the Forge of Souls, this strange place that the humans now refer to as Exeter.

Those of the counsel stare on in shock, all but one. SIRHURON recognizes these proclamations, realizing that the young adventurer has within him the soul of the Ulfar Magnus, Lost Prince of the Baelstraz Mountains. Sir Huron calls forth his brothers and sisters, announcing the royal prince as such, taking knee and offering his aid in such a worthy cause.

Any foolish enough not to follow suit finds themselves rebuked with a fervor rivaling the intensity of the sun above. Within moments the whole congregation bends the knee to the Lost Prince.

The companions continue to investigate the Old Rookery, finding themselves in the subterranean levels, among the dusty tomes and old paintings of the study. They find some small signs of struggle and a disruption in the flow of carpeting. They also noticed a malignant growth protruding from the air duct lining the bottom of the wall.

They continued down, finding a small sitting area with a large basin of cool, refreshing water. On’ogg, realizing it to have been blessed, took his fill of the holy water. They also found a intricate wall fresco, depicting the eternal conflict of Dyadorism.

The companions continued on, finding a small chantry, beyond which they witnessed the setting sun through a small passageway outside. There was a mighty clash coming from outside, the sound of heavy forged metal hitting stone. The companions rushed forward, engaging in several more abhorrent knights. They are successful in halting the knight’s attacks on a large stone seal of some sort. During the combat, The Hand passively dragged their hand across the wall as they delved.

Reckoning it to be some containment against evil, Akasha and On’ogg combine their powers to mend the stone. Tendrals of vines sprout from Akasha’s magic, filling in the damaged areas while Ogg radiates small waves of light, which harden the vines into stone.

The companions watch the sunset and use the opportunity for a short rest. They soon continue forward, sliding the heavy stone aside to reveal an old passageway, cut from the rough hewn stone of the mountain itself. They continue down.

Intrigued by the hard edges of the wall, the Hand drags their own hand across the surface passively. Continuing down some ways the companions are halted when the Hand accidentally pulls a lever, opening a hidden panel branching off of the main passageway. Climbing up a narrow flight of steps, they find a perfectly square room with a vaulted ceiling and nothing but a large mirror on a stand centered in the middle of the floor.

They spend some time dabbling with the strange ways in which the mirror reflects magical light. They find some discerning colors associated with each plain wall. They also notice that both the walls and the mirror have a deeply embedded magic about them, though inverted.

After quite a bit of experimenting, Sayer snaps his fingers with a thought and places the mirror against one of the walls, easily stepping through to a room beyond that he had found with his Gem of Truesight.

The companions venture into what they find to be four hidden rooms, one for each wall of the mirror room. With a combined effort they find a Chain from a chamber containing a scale, a Haft from the chamber containing a suit of ancient armor, a Crest from the room containing a paining of a woodland scene and a Bit from the room containing a Chalice.

Combining their pieces they gain a heavy key, with an aura of magic about it. Ogg realizes that it seems to have a similar design to that fresco they came across in the chambers above. He notes this for later investigation.

The companions delve deeper into the Black Cells. They pass through some unadorned cells before finding a peculiar, gleaming plate helm with a ruby the size of a fist centered on the front. There is a bit of discussion as to what to do with such a relic before Sayer relieves the Hand of the artifact and places it upon his noggin.

He is wracked by convulsions for a brief moment before seeming to come to. He stares at his friends without obvious recognition, eventually speaking in a voice not his own. The companions find they are now speaking to a dwarf by the name of Prince Ulfgar Magnus, son of Thane Ragno Magnus.

It seems the Prince is driven beyond the normal parameters of mortality to fulfill some ancestral duty. He seems driven by this calling, and through some small feats of trust-binding decides that the companions could help with this task.

The companions regroup in the morning, break their fast with simple fare. Sir Alfred Leomynd calls on them early, delivering a missive from the First Paladin himself, meant for the sergeant of the watch post. The instruction give the companions access to the long since sealed dungeons below the Old Rookery Station.

They set off soon after. A few hours hike finds them in the upper clefts of one of the Nobles surrounding the citadel, on the far end of the valley. A switchback trail leads up to the Old Rookery, the breeze whistling through a door standing slightly ajar. Nobody welcomes them as they press into the foyer; the watch station seems strangely unmanned.

They come across a statue of a vaguely angelic figure wielding a golden blade, the placard naming it ‘Glorenfauzt’. They take note and soon move along. They find an door that blocked from the other side, then an office with scattered papers and upturned furniture, an ominous smear of blood dragged across a chamber wall.

They find a small observation platform. They also determine that there are no reports dated past two days prior to the current day. They continue on, up a small circular stairway to the Rookery itself.

Here they come across a pair of aberrations, grossly malformed by some horrific evil, interrupting the vile creature as it feasted upon the carcass of a bloated crow. Extraneous appendages sprout from their dead bodies, which they use to brutally attack the heroes. There is a aura of undeath about them.

The companions are up to the task and soon dispatch the creatures. They notice that they bare the trappings of Aegis knights, confirming a grim fate on at least two of the knights stationed here.

Backtracking to the level below, they use a crowbar with renewed vigor and break open the blocked door to the billets. Within they find the corpse of what must have been a survivor, determining his death to likely caused by wounds suffered by the abhorrent knights. The Hand weaves a spell around the corpse, animating the poor soul to find clues through conversation.

The man claims to have been caught unawares while he and his colleagues delivered goods to the outpost. In the chaos, he suffered a mortal wound and blockaded himself in the sleeping quarters, where he would eventually succumb to his injuries.

The companions press on into the depths of the outpost. Spiraling down deep into the mountainside, the stairwell leads them into an unlit passageway. They come across a small room with a heavy tome, names listed with some irregularity. Continuing on they find several alcoves; each with several brass urns. Countless mementos clutter the area, including several sealed notes and missives, each with a coin sunk into it’s waxen seal.

The decided it best to not interfere with the shrines and continue forth, to a split in the passage. To one path lies a long hall with a small flight of steps leading into the darkness beyond. The other path opens into a comfortable receiving room, with many substantial paintings and a few shelves with old literature lining the walls.

The companions investigate the study, finding one painting in particular quite intriguing. Upon further inspection, they notice it not a painting at all but a peculiar snapshot of the scene it depicts, like a window to the scene, with just the shades of black and grey detailing the image.

It was labeled the ‘Heroes of Exeter’ and depicts Ahrumaz and her band of companions in the harsh tundras of the far north. It listed there names. Among the names listed they are surprised to find Marobar Sul . Sure enough they recognize his likeness, though a much, much younger man, standing among the heroic friends of Ahrumaz, fabled hero of the Giant Gate Wars and legendary leader of the Alabaster Aegis.

1179

The companions regroup before their final trek to the Alabaster Citadel. Sayer the Swashbuckler calls upon Captain Castien, who is happy to report that the state of the Callehad is far less dire than at first was expected. The companions efforts to outfit the ship with reinforced skystone plates have payed off serious dividends in their effort.

Akasha Delithrang calls upon Nazeer for guidance in regard to the inquiries she had made on the ‘Veridian Wardens’. He mentions that he remembers having a conversation with one of the acolytes of the Scribes that hinted at said knowledge. He directs her to find a place where old tomes and scrolls be kept, then call upon him through means of the arcane to receive further instructions.

Elbanor Thaspeclepior, On’ogg and The Hand fall into the company of Noble Squad and as a whole they set out into the Gates of Benediction, delving at a downward grade down into the northern cliffs of the valley. The tunnel they found themselves in was as well kept as it was long. They continued for some time with only sconces of burning brazers to mark their progress. After about ten minutes they saw a gleam of light at the far end, signifying the exit.

Once through, they found the valley much more hospitable than the region would suggest. They had dropped some elevation in the trek through the Gates and the ground was still marked by snow patches escaping the sun’s rays under at the edge of the treeline.

They continue to the Citadel, are escorted by Judith ‘the Noose’ to the Scribe’s Archives, by way of the dining facilities. Ogg inquires about some required reading and is assigned some book-work by Alfred Leomynd, the First Scribe of the Aegis. The Hand offers their assistance, but Ogg decides that perhaps Elbanor is the better companion suited to wax philosophical virtues.

Akasha inquires with First Scribe on the certain subject of the Veridian Wardens. He seems genuinely stumped, so she offers the scroll which she received in the dreaming as a clue. He finds it most interesting and gains permission by the young elf to transcribe to contents, a task which he sets his acolytes to immediately. He is unable to produce meaningful text on the Wardens besides.

Sayer peels away from the group to find more suitable accommodations. He is seen to their lodgings. The Aegis had set them in the formal guest quarters; though lacking any obvious manner of refinement, it was certainly comfortable and well appointed.

He then made his way to conquer the task of growing thirst. Running into the familiar face of supply sergeant McGee, he accepts the invitation to the officer’s lounge for refreshments. While enjoying said company, Sayer listened with some intent on the buzz around the lounge, namely that the Circle had been called for emergency deliberations, that such hasty arrangements were a peculiarity.

The Hand makes attempt to poke around the First Scribe’s office after he departs to his meeting with the Circle, but is quickly set upon by a passing acolyte. Feigning a head injury, the Hand is successful in convincing the young man into believing their trauma. Much to the Hand’s dismay, though, the acolyte now seemed duty-bound to transport them to a medical professional.

Once delivered, a doctor of sorts informs The Hand of the nature of traumatic experiences and their potential to disrupt the natural recall of memories, creating a void of mental capacity. He also warned that though it may be difficult, that delving into said trauma may be to only way to unpack and assuage what he called this ‘dark baggage’. Somewhat shaken by this apparent revelation, the Hand takes their leave after requesting a shiny bauble from his cabinet of medicinal curios.

Some time later Elbanor is called on by a runner from The Circle. His presence seems requested by Svala, a summons he takes immediately. The attendant sees him out of the Citadel and up a forest path to the outdoor auditorium, where The Circle had convened.

Svala calls Elbanor to act in her name as an agent in her stead. His charge would be to confirm the proof of punishment for a Knight that she knows to be integral in her capture by the giants deep within the mountains. He is told that Sir Ferric had been interred some three decades prior in the ‘Black Cells’, the dungeons below what is now an active guard outpost name the ‘Old Rookery’. The man under question had refused any nourishment and has been presumed dead since shortly after his internment began. The ‘Black Cells’ have long since been discontinued and nearly forgotten.

Meanwhile Ogg takes the opportunity to wander about the Citadel for a time. He finds himself on one of the outer crenelations and runs into a young paladin who says that her friends call her ‘Mouse’. Indeed the young lady seems just barely scraping into an age of growth, a so called ‘late bloomer’ as it goes. She mentions having a keen appreciation for a certain star in the sky, a cosmic brightness that sheds some reminder that the divine are shining down on the realm of mortals. A little perplexed, Ogg notices that Mouse has a strength of divine power among her and attempts to continue the conversation, but the young lady soon vanishes around a corner.

He eventually calls upon Knight Marcus Dunham, the head smithy of the Aegis. On’Ogg gives a small practical demonstration of the peculiar sword, a presentation that results in the complete destruction of a dummy target. Knight Dunham, an expert in his own right in the ways of weapons and steel, turns his trained eye in the aura of red energy around the violence. He seems to recognize the curse gripping the orc and brings him to his great forge.

Thereupon Knight Dunham commands Ogg to submerge the blade into a basin of holy water. Ogg complies, and with some peculiar reluctance plunges the sword into the water. A blast of dark energy erupts from the basin, cracking the polished stonework in the process. A shadowy malevolence washes over the room briefly before slamming several acolytes onto the ground and flitting down towards the training grounds.

Ogg and the Knights rush out into the yard with several torches only to catch a tail end of darkness taken form. They look on to watch as it flits into the treeline some distance away.

The recently freed jotunbrud proclaimed herself to be Akir’thanalan, blessed of the Storm Father … but demanded that the small-folk on board the Callehad call her Svala. The giant took the time to appraise her diminutive liberators and judged Elbanor to indeed carry some blessing of Ak’leksion.

Their dialogue was cut short by Svala, who sensed of those she mention to have been ‘once her kinsman’ but that they had ‘steered themselves down a different path long ago’. The companions disembark the rattled Callehad and investigate, finding several demons emerge from the misty crevices of the mountain. Svala begins channeling a prayer.

Several of the assailants are dispatched by the companions before Svala finishes her age-old invocation to Ak’leksion. Suddenly her massive palm slams down and shatters the remaining demons in a chain of lightning. Making short work of those she proclaims to be agents of the mountain giants, Svala finds the companions worthy. She lifts the Callehad over a giant shoulder and begins carrying them to a place she calls Exeter…

They attempt to reason with Svala who is waylaying their progress… but they find her resolve unflinching until they mention their hope to visit the Alabaster Citadel. This seems to spark some deep thought and Svala agrees to make way for the ancient holdings of the Aegis.

~

The mighty Svala had cut a path deep through the vast peaks of the Khalkist Mountains, winding her way through places of sheer rock cliffs and wide, misty gorges. She came upon a long basin known to her as the Vale of Huron; the ancestral home of the Alabaster Aegis …surely named so after some former Gallant of the knights. A mere breathe on the winds of time, she thought as she recalled the ancient rites to this place… A’guur Romagaath.

From the vantage of those on board the deck of the Callehad, the great Lady of the storms seemed as if to wade through tall grass, so did the pines and poplars crowd in about her waist. Though the valley had been many leagues in length, the span side to side would have hardly been more than a day’s hike across. With a slight incline marked by hillocks and braes, the blessed of Ak’lecsion carried on… past heavy stone cairns marking the path for the much smaller denizens of the mountains.

Aboard the Callehad the passengers find little warmth from the daylight. Indeed, though the sun shined brightly over the western horizon, it gave naught to lessen the brisk chill that cut through cloak and spirit alike. The Captain had coordinated the restoration of the dirigible and shoring of the hull, the aligning of steerage and the shoring up of line-works. Once the assignments had been arranged, the Captain retired to his cabin.

Still Svala continued on. Now you find yourself in the terminus of this valley, ensconced to the south by the misty peaks of the Khalkist mountains and the Nobles looming over you to the north, with the sculpted smooth stone of the Gates of Benediction nestled among their craggy cliffs. Recently deposited near the road leading up to the Gates, the Callehad almost seems forgotten among the tension between Svala and the Knights.

Suddenly Knight Renault Mallory separates himself from the crowd of foot soldiers and appeals for prudence through armistice in a voice for all to hear. His voice rings soundly through the crisp, mountain air and seems to dissolve the hostility … for now.

The Hand learns the value of a hard day’s work through hull-painting and mineral crushing. In the process, the young warlock also gains valuable insight on the mannerisms of the elves of the Legion.

While lingering on deck observing the scene, Sayer notices adverse weather in their distant path. Knowing the need, he volunteers himself and his colleagues to assist as necessary. Later that evening an advisory is disseminated throughout the crew, confining the crew outside direct duties to the decks below as a safety precaution.

Early the next morning his squad is called upon and set to a series of tasks which Sayer delegates with some demeanor of polished professionalism. Though his friends at first have a slow start, they soon gain some footing at the tasks after a on-the-fly adjustment on his part.

First Mate Nazeer runs the duties through short-shifts, considering the harsh weather. The companions eventually finish their work and are soon rotated out. Returning to down time activities, Sayer becomes aware of a growing concern among the elven crew. There seems to be an ominous voice on the wind. He joins his elven compatriots in investigating and indeed hears a strange, ominous sound between the whistling gale of the weather.

He alerts his friends and they discuss the implications. On’ogg remembers that the ‘Forge of Souls’ had a close tie to the giants of this region and their history with the Alabaster Aegis. Elbanor remembers that the giants are often greatly blessed by the Lords of the Elemental Planes. Feeling a calling by his own Lord Ak’Lexzion he rushes to the main deck to observe this anomaly for himself.

Some ways distant he takes notice of a silent crashing thunder, deep within the roiling blizzards roiling around the summits of the Khalkist mountain range. The Khalkist acts as a natural barrier within the Ironback mountains in the great north, beyond which the vast tundras lay sprawling as far as the eye can see.

Believing this a sign, he calls forth a mastery of the elements around him, summoning his own booming lightning around the area of the ship. Those on deck take cover amidst the violent display of charged elemental might. As they recover, several of the crew, Nazeer among them move to apprehend the cleric.

Entranced by the spell, Elbanor finds himself equal to the task of staving off his assailants. Indeed, rapt in the splendor of the lightning around him, the young man doesn’t notice as the ship is torn from it’s trajectory, caught in a slipstream that bends it’s course towards the heart of this fierce blizzard.

Moments into this cutting weather Captain Castien calls for all hands on deck, to “..Save the ship!”. With his heart pounding in his chest, Elbanor takes a position on the nose of the forecastle, dodging crates as they become detached from their moorings. The rest of the companions aid in the efforts of recovery, securing the lines as the cutting winds threaten to tear the ship from it’s dirigible (the balloon).

Combining their efforts, the companions are successful in securing the rigging, only to hear Elbanor call out that they are almost through. Suddenly they burst through the swirling mass of the blizzard, barreling into the relatively calm of the eye.

With their speed, they find themselves hurtling towards the tallest peak among the Khalkist. Atop what must be an ancient platform carved into the throat of said peak they see a colossal crystal formation, an encasement of roughly hewn ice. They are startled to see a a figure of colossal size, humanoid in features but larger than anything they had ever seen. A giant, to be sure, encased in the ice.

Noticing the frame, they see the giant to be female. The only signs of life to be seen are the soft hum of cold blue light radiating through the ice around the giant’s eyes, catching on minute cracks within the crystalline formation.

With the last of their efforts, the crew attempt to slow their speed with emergency rigging, but find only one able to be deployed, the others caught in the mess of the lines. With the intact sail dropped, the Callehad careens forward on it’s side. Castien calls out for all hands to “…brace for impact!”, before the ship slams it’s starboard side into the sheer edge of the ice.

The deep cracking of ice can be heard beneath the the Callehad’s ancient ironwood hull splintering, long persisting as the airship rebounds off it’s impact. The hull itself begins a wide arc, seeming to tie up it’s line as the dirigible itself bounces off the impact. The crater of shattered ice reverberates through the massive formation and those still standing look on bewilderingly as a massive crack breaks free an arm of the giant.

The giant uses her freed arm to blast the rest of the formation into glacier size chunks, the pieces falling all around the ship, creating blasts of avalanches below. Still careening aside, those upon the Callehad watch helplessly as the giant stands to her feet, bringing up a massive arm to intercept the ship.

Bracing for another impact, those upon the ship are thrown about as the giant hand closes around the hull of the airship. Large plates of metal cover her arms as a scaled armor, shining with resplendent energy. The armor climbs higher and higher on the figure, capping on a similarly fashioned helm around a feminine face marked by eyes the color of lightning and brimstone. Not unkindly, the giant holds it steady and leans down; eyes the size of wagon wheels leveling with those on deck.

She calls out, her voice booming with a energy in itself, “Hear me …… those .. who have called … the storm ……….. for .. you .. have FOUNDHER~!!!!”.

The elves of the Callehad make a point to leave at sunset on the following day, so the companions continue to sew up the loose ends while still in Khalsbrad.

the First Paladin, Sir Dhalamus Cayne invites On’ogg to join him while he breaks his fast, where they wax philosophical on the nature of the Light. Sensing the radiant Gift with Ogg, he calls the orc to the Alabaster Citadel to continue his training with a more structured curriculum. Ogg decides to deny the appeal, at least for now, until he’s dealt with the pressing issue of Sytheria. Upset by the necessity of putting off this formal invitation, Ogg agrees to call upon the Aegis before they set out farther north.

They then drop in to see Lord Boswell, who seems to have dropped into a governing position within the city. Though he chafes at the responsibility, he doesn’t appear to deny the position (temporary as he assumes it surely must be). They then make way to the apartments of Sir Zeliek, formally of the Minutemen militia of Khalsbrad. They find the building sealed off, under order of Commander Jules Maynard himself.

Within the meager chambers they find signs of what must have been a prolonged internment of a small person on a child sized bed. Nearby, they find pieces of what must have been a porcelain object. Within the room alongside, they find a larger bed next to an equipment rack bereft of any armor. There is the remains of a large rune beneath the child’s bed, burnt into the wood of the floor. It appears to be of the conjuring energy type. Within the room itself is the palpable feeling of dread, made thick by a faint miasma that is reminiscent of the magical hues of Khalsbrad during the Night of Lights. They destroy any remnants of the conjuration runes and depart.

The group convene within the Tower to find Elbanor, who is still undergoing his procedure. They find the scribes of the Aegis noticeably tense as they go about their charting. The calculations don’t seem entirely possible and the bring a sense of doom. The group meet with Frayfeather just as Wilhelm von Keurig is confronting the architect about what his own findings seem to forewarn. Apparently the fluctuation of the ley lines are destabilizing the very space that the Tower is founded upon, tearing at the normalized laws of physical normalcy.

Frayfeather seems unresponsive to such calculations from so obviously inept a source, but concedes that there are certain peculiarities gripping the area. The debate swiftly devolves into a half-sized brawl, complete with an array of flying projectiles. Tools, sprockets, small curiosities; anything not already bolted down was quickly taking flight between the gnomes.

Finding the Tower to be less safe a conference area by the moment, the companions secure a mid-procedural Elbanor from the worktable, as well as the two gnomes and make their way back out to the grounds around the Tower. On the way a series of lights and a tinny alarm begins sounding, they are pleased to see all within the Tower making as hasty an exit as they can.

With mere minutes to apparent meltdown, the Hand separates themself and makes a break for the private study of Master Madrygos. The Hand finds the librarian and warns the construct of the imminent arcane anomaly. The librarian attempts to relieve the Hand of their concern, explaining that it’s tethering to the study is not held in contempt, indeed it’s task gives the construct purpose. The Hand seems saddened, but concedes to Sora’s intention to stay with the Tower. The Hand quickly departs.

Within minutes, the Tower of Solastarum is consumed by arcane energy and folds in on itself, leaving a crater hewn into the ground itself, sporadically marked the offshoots of subterranean passageways. The crater is quickly filled water spilling in from Lake Edelweiss, flowing like a crashing torrent to consume the void area.

All those able watch in shock to see the spectacle; the whispers of small pockets of people made audible by the stark silence of the lost Tower.

The group fall back to the Callehad to again plan their course of action.

~

The next morning the companions set out to their own tasks. The Hand climbs to the top of the blimp and spends much of the morning and then afternoon contemplating all that they had learned. They notice much from the height, not least of which the bands of Knights of the Alabaster Aegis departing to the northwest. They also take notice of the blank canvas of the balloon with piqued interest.

Ogg calls upon Sir Osterrick within the counsel offices of the Khalsbrad Municipal chambers. He finds the Prefect going about the business of managing the city. Ogg communicates that the gravity of the death of Knight Raleigh is not lost on him, as Sir Osterrick suggests that the orc remember what happened when moving forward, to use it as a reminder of what brought him to this point and a catalyst to make the best of such an opportunity.

Sayer finds himself in a state of restlessness. Without the threat of imminent danger, his thoughts tend to settle back into disagreeable subjects. He seeks out some of his elvish friends aboard the Callehad and they depart to do some light sparring outside the city. Noticing his agitated state, they bring him on an afternoon hunt to slay a wild beast that is hounding travelers on the Fairfield road. They track the great beast into the craggy foothills of the Khalkist mountains and eventually slay the beast, bringing back a massive trophy to the crew.

Elbanor continues his procedure aboard the Callehad, well below deck.

Akasha approaches Nazeer about some personal dreams she had been experiencing, dating back a long time. They seemed all the more relevant now that she had gained the peculiar ability to change her shape into animals almost completely at will. Connecting the portents, the experienced magus demands her to delve it’s secrets. He brings her to his small chambers and begins the preparations to induce such exploration. She falls asleep and begins experiencing the dream again, though with much more lucidity than ever before.

In the dream she walks through the foreign yet familiar landscape of a dense forest, following a shallow creek that meanders into a deep pond. She hears faint rhythms of music, almost too soft to hear. She follows the edge of the water and is surprised to find herself among several figures, standing still as statues. She attempts to question the nearest, speaking in a language she knows but doesn’t recognize. The figure responds only by unfolding their hands from the depths of heavy robes, producing a sealed scroll and handing it to the bewildered young elf.

As she accepts, she finds herself consumed by an radiant energy, suffering somewhat from it’s white hot intensity. She falls, kicking and screaming. The pain wracks her body a moment before she finds herself being roused by Nazeer, back in his small cabin. The pain subsides, leaving no mark but it’s brief memory and even that seems less distressing as she remembers. Indeed, the events would likely be soon forgotten had she not held in her hand the scroll from the mysterious figure.

She reads the script as lines of a strange poem, knowing not what it means. She conveys it to Nazeer, who is also at a loss as to it’s meaning, though it signed as ‘Veridian Warden’ strikes him as noteworthy. He confesses himself unable to glean much, but suspects that he heard that moniker some time before. He dismisses the young elf, conveying a need to study his tomes and scrolls for more information.

Ogg and the Hand experiment with dunking their head in a deep barrel of rainwater. Sayer returns with the elvish hunters, prize in tow. There’s a peculiar scent of burning pipestuffs, but Sayer isn’t quite able to place it’s origin. Akasha visits Captain Castien Vauldra, who is in his cabin consulting charts and maps, plotting his course. Happy for her company, he continues his work as she plays him light music. Intrigued by the scroll, which she realized is as much musical notes and verse as it is the cryptic poem, plays the song as written.

All who hear, including those on the deck of the Callehad experience an intense lethargy, then fall into a deep slumber. Akasha herself is beset by the enchantment. Some time later, the knights of Noble Squad awaken the bewildered crew of the Callehad.

They had been delivering Aegis crates aboard the ship and found the strange scene at a time just before dusk. Ogg inquires of their status, as they seem to have insignificant tasks delegated to them on the regular. They appraise him of the merit system, which he finds interesting. He mentions that perhaps they could assist with the companion’s soon to be foray to the north.

Captain Castien, perturbed by the stoppage of work, took pains to reacquaint the crew to their tasks. The Callehad jostles a bit due to the tasks. From below deck, Wihelm von Keurig repremands those within earshot to steady the area, as exacting work was being performed on the cleric well below deck. None of the companions seen this as an oddity.

Within the hour they had taken flight, setting course for the Alabaster Citadel.

The companions awaken to find the Black Star a convergence point for Minutemen forces working in shifts to retake the city of Khalsbrad.

The Hand is confronted by On’ogg about the strange crimson stone that was taken from Hush upon the necromancer’s demise. Hand claims to have it stowed away and promises to bring it to the Tower of Solastarum, where they will convene some time later.

Thranka welcomes Sayer to join her; to return to the sea. With an sense of responsibility still quite new to him, Sayer decides to continue their course to see this adventure through. There’s a heartfelt goodbye, and Thranka departs, presumably through the arcane portal that Darrek and his colleagues are conjuring.

The Hand breaks away and explores the landscape just beyond the walls of Khalsbrad. They find a bit of privacy and attempt to commune with an unknown greater power. There is a response, beckoning them to bring the Scepter before it. There seems to be a way to travel through the extra planar space to the entity, though it require at least one sentient anchor as a component to the sorcery.

Elbanor avoids the general drama of his companions by making an appointment with Nozzalthorp Frayfeather, requesting the gnomish tinkerer’s aid in grafting a salvaged mechanical arm onto his missing limb. He then calls on the elves of the Callehad finding Captain Castien in recovery, but hopeful.

Meanwhile Ogg, Akasha and Sayer continue to the grounds around the Tower where the Alabaster Aegis has taken position. A supply officer shows them around before escorting them to the command tent.

There they find SIROSTERRICK; Ogg presents the old knight with the mortal remains of one of their Order, from the Errant Expeditionary. Sir Osterrick seems greatly troubled, inquires as to what the circumstances are that Ogg came into possession of such a thing. He then places Ogg and his friends under arrest for crimes for suspicious of murder of one Catherine Raleigh, his own daughter.

~

Ogg, Akasha and Sayer find themselves tied to a post in a small tent some not far from the command area. After about an hour, Sir Osterrick dismisses the guards, who he finds eager to be rid of Sayer’s muffled insults. The old Knight is fuming and begins interrogating Ogg, who divulges all information regarding Karth Drachum killing Knight Raleigh in the jungles of southern Collabria.

Sir Osterrick makes smack of Ogg’s face then notices the young orc gather his emotions and control his rage, which subdues the old man’s own zeal. He then listens to the rest of the orc’s story and decides it to be truth. He releases the companions and informs them that they should await the pleasure of the First Paladin for further guidance.

The companions make their way to the mess tent, taking in a meal. The tent is empty besides a small group of Knights seeming to stretch their ale ration. The companions take seat, but soon they are displaced from the larger table as dozens of young Knights return from field work.

In the commotion the small group of Knights who had been seating on the far corner raises draws attention by raising a mug ‘to the heroes who saved Khalsbrad’. There is a raucous cheer before he continues, more specifically distinguishing the companions for their achievements in the critical role of dropping the otherworldy shield around the city. The cheers around the tent turn quickly to jeers.

After the turbulence fades, the companions make way to make the acquaintance of this eccentric gentleman and his colleagues. He introduces his friends as those of Noble, a squad of misfits and ragabouts. The companions stay a while, enjoying the company of Noble before being called fetched for the First Paladin himself.

Meanwhile, the Hand has meandered back towards Solastarum. Some ways from the encampment they are set upon by by a Knight of a different sort. Baron Samael approaches and suggests a small stroll by the lake. The Hand attempts to regain their own will, feeling the briefest whisper of doubt in their actions. They find resistance to be fruitless.

Samael takes possession of the scarlet crystal that was gained after defeating the dread necromancer Hush. Then citing the Hand’s benefactor as a power not to be crossed lightly, allows a favor to be called upon when the young warlock is in need.

The Hand soon rejoins their other companions at the command tent, where Sir Dhalamus Cayne is receiving Ogg, Akasha and Sayer. They soon sort out the drama of Knight Raleigh’s death to a favorable end for all. Sir Dhalamus also thanks the companions for their part in toppling the evils within Khalsbrad.

By this point both Elbanor and the Hand have rejoined the group, the cleric coming in tow with Nazeer, Castien’s second in command. The elves of the Legion want to continue their coordinated efforts with the Aegis and formally give their thanks to the companions in their efforts within Solastarum, not least of which the recovery of their Captain.

Honoring the companions with ceremony, he gifts them several powerful items recovered from the Tower. Impressed, Dhalamus also invites Ogg to join the Aegis at the Alabaster Citadel to formally begin his paladin training in the ways of the Order.

Deeply moved, the companions fall back to the Callehad to mull over the day’s events.

With renewed resolve, the companions press the attack to the Master of the Tower. They ride the lift back to the private quarters, lingering only slightly in the private study before moving on. They find no signs of Sora.

Anxious for a confrontation they press on to the chambers beyond. They find the halls in a state of disrepair. Large paintings of inexplicable value defaced with both gore and less obvious fluids. Many were in broken shambles among the refuse lining pathways. A voice echoed towards them from the chambers still deeper.

The companions come to a circular hallway, bending away from them in either direction. Statues line the outer edges. Many were destroyed outright, a crumbling mess of limbs and contoured faces staring blankly from mounds of dusty stucco. Periodically they found one seemingly intact, each with a canvas tarp draped over the piece.

Curiosity piqued, the Hand slides underneath the tarp for closer inspection. They find a pulsing, growing mass of squishy flesh covering the upper parts of the statue; over the face and much of the head of the stone worked parody of man. Revealing this to her companions, they are much distressed. On’ogg strikes at the lecherous creature and it seems to die in with a shrill screech.

As the noise settles, Sayer swears that the shriek had been echoed from somewhere further on. The Hand suggests stealth and gives him the ability to communicate with her from beyond. Sayer continues, the rambling of the voice becoming even more obtrusive.

He finds a break in the circular hall, opening to the center of the chambers. Within he takes notice of about a dozen humanoids, not unlike the prisoners from the Dormatories, but somehow in a more loathsome state. Chained together at the neck in groups of three, they kneel around the circular room in a dazed state, eyes staring ahead from tear stained faces.

Centered in the room is a raised dais underneath a large cone-like construct hanging from the ceiling like a mechanical stalactite. Shoots of steam spew from the object through a tangle of tubes and hoses. Vents hum with electrical energy only slightly masking the sounds of turning cogs and spinning cranks within.

Underneath the mysterious, technological marvel is the figure of a gaunt looking human, his skin the color of the moon reflected on bog water. From under a heavy cloak and hood they he sees that a heavy scowl is sewn shut by leather cord. Indeed, Sayer realizes that the voice itself, though his, seems to boom from mesh covered coffers placed around the structure above. A jagged crystal the color of blood protrudes outward from a bare chest.

Sayer relays this to his colleagues and they rush up to assist. The figure who can only be assumed is Hush calls forth to his chained congregation, speaking of ascendancy and their forthcoming sacrifice. The rest of the companions soon rush up and join Sayer.

There is a small dialogue before the group engage in combat. Though Hush displays an array of dangerous spellcasting, the companions find themselves up to the task against it. They lash out at the necromancer in resolute strikes, beating the Master of the Tower back some ways.

The Hand attempts to throw layers of magical restrains on Hush, but he seems to resist the restrains. She then pulls one of the prisoners aside out of the fray and attempts to reason with it. Though his mind seems on the wrong end of broken, he insists that he will not harm her. The Hand begins trying to unlock his bindings.

Soon after Hush falls back and presses an open palm to the forehead of one of the supplicants. The poor soul cringes in pain at the touch and Hush begins to channel his dark energies. Hoping to stifle the necromancer’s plans, Elbanor charges to the center of the room and blasts forth a massive charge of electrical energy. Several of the supplicants are killed outright, those that survive are severely maimed.

With a snarl Hush walks back to the center of the chamber dais, the whole chamber seeming to react to his movement. Indeed the mechanized structure hanging from the ceiling closes a crystalline barrier around the Master of the Tower. Blasts of powerful steam billows down into the small chamber, blasting the robes and sinew from the dread necromancer. Gouts of flame issue forth as well, charring the remnants from the floor of the chamber, leaving only the abysmal skeleton of Hush.

A misty cloud of sickly yellow then poured into the chamber and with the horrifying will of the undead lich, the crystal vial around him shuddered and lifted itself from the floor with mechanical legs revealing themselves on the bottom of the platform. Long mechanical arms folded out from the clockwork vestibule, each fitted with some dangerously sharp instrument; spinning blades, elongated claws grasping the empty around around it.

With renewed hatred, Hush continued his attacks. The heroes met his challenge and after a while were able to defeat the dread necromancer. the crystal barrier around him shattered and his ashen bones fell to a heap, the mechanical pieces around him slowing sluggishly to a halt.

The heroes revel in their victory, taking into possession the crimson shard from the chest cavity of Hush. Soon the sound of heavy boots and metal clinking can be heard from the outer chambers. A squad of soldiers gain the room and make a quick appraisal of the scene. The guards are comprised a few Minutemen, but most carry the colors of a winter sky streaked with sunlight; blue trimmed with bronze. The Order of the Alabaster Aegis has arrived.

The companions allow the newcomers to secure the chambers, caring only to rid themselves of the Tower. They retreat back down and outside, finding the sun just barely cresting over Lake Edelweiss. They take note of the Aegis setting camp on the grounds around Solastarum.

They also see that though the undead scourge still resists in pockets of Khalsbrad, the day is nearly won. The Callehad floats above Shacklefield, reigning down canonfire and arcane blasts onto enemy forces.

Finding the familiar face of Akasha moving among the wounded, the companions press into the encampment. They find her walking in a hurry beside a litter carried by a pair of Aegis medics, indicated such by the red and white circled cloth around their right arm. Akasha pressed her hand around the palm of an unconscious Castien, being borne to a triage tent.

For a moment the Captain of the Callehad opened his eye, the stoney features of the elf betraying a slight smile as he recognizes his colleagues. With a wince of pain, Castien lifts an arm into a curl, flexing it lightly at On’ogg. Then his eye whirls a bit and he nods off into a fitful slumber.

The companions linger for a few moments while Akasha sees to Castien’s immediate treatment. Once satisfied with the care given, she joins her friends and as a group they move through the streets of Khalsbrad, busy with the movement of foot soldiers and recovery workers.

They make it unhindered back to the Black Star, where they get a progress report on the re-taking of Khalsbrad; the day was nearly won. With the good news, they collapse from exhaustion.

The companions find the Dormitories within Solastarum to be in a rather dismal state. Filth and decay cover much of the area, with howls of pain echoing from deeper within the wing. They come across jagged chains strewn about, constructed from links of otherworldly metal.

They come to a larger area where they find Xenegon the Pernicious toiling away on those left in his charge. Among those currently strewn among his den of horrors is Castien, unconscious and latched to a workbench. The companions engage with the vile creature while freeing some of his captives.

The Pernicious One eventually succumbs to the companions. With his key the companions are able to open the cells containing dozens of captives from the city. Though in a deep state of shock, the captives eventually rally to the companions and take a position in the relative safety of the main structure, with the Aurens.

The companions use the key gifted to Hand by Baron Vargoss to traverse to the next level of the Tower. They notice across the walkway, hundreds of feet above the central chamber floor a platform leading to ‘The Occulularum’ and a place called the ‘Spire of Silence’. They also find another elaborate elevator leading up to the Private Quarters. Deciding to on, they take the latter route.

After another lift upwards, they find themselves in what must have been the private study of Master Madrygos. They take heed of the books and odd trinkets a bit. After disturbing the heavy tomes, a tin construct emerges from the depths of an alcove, humming to life. Tethered by a large umbilical serve from the nape of it’s neck, it is lowered into the crowd of companions.

The companions make inquiries of the librarian, who they find out calls itself Sora. Through some quick thinking, they are able to coax some answers from it (though not relinquish absolute control, as QUERY:Madrygos has been usurped by QUERY:Hush, relinquishing all INPUT:Control to said TLB:Master).

With this new information, they decide to investigate further the Spire of Silence. Backtracking, they find the passage below open up to the outside. A large open air minaret launches itself into the frosty air across a bridging walkway about 12 feet wide. An arcane energy seems to pour itself into a small focal point from the minaret’s four columns.

The companions charge the structure, intent on disabling this obviously evil scheme. The screeching forms of the winged creatures soon threaten from all around. Wave after wave of the bird-like demons barrel through the companions, trying to knock them away.

The companions find four glassy orbs pouring magical energy into the small point towards the center and begin shattering the orbs. Several demons take a defensive position around one of the focal orbs and Elbanor blasts them with a thunderous wave of energy that shatters them and the orb itself. The flow fails and with a great zerp the focal point pulls inward a massive rush of arcane energy.

After a few moments of holding fast whatever they can, the companions feel the winds settle and open their eyes tentatively. They find that the shadowy curtain that had befallen Khalsbrad has fallen. Stars twinkle in the night sky above. The Hand ponders the sight, another new experience to log in the journal.

Elbanor hefts the heavy object that had been the focal point; a iron mask with subtle but intricate carvings skittering across the surface. Elbanor feels the potent powers of the within, considering the implications of such an artifact.

With his sharp eyes Sayer notices the signs of what must be hundreds of torch carrying figures far off on the outskirts of the barrier mountains northwest of the Tower. With the barrier down, the forces move into the breach like a crashing wave.

With a word of holy power On’ogg alights his sword in a brilliant glow. Waving it over his head, he stands as a beacon of light on the upper reaches of a Tower that has stood as a ominous oppressor for unrelenting days. The light din of cheers throughout the defensive walls of the city could still be heard from such great heights.

The companions make way through the grounds surrounding Solastarum with the aid of Jotun and his Aurens. The brunt of the Towers forces seem to be distracted by Commander Maynard who has marshaled the Minutemen at the siege towers around the city. The companions fight through a token force left at the gates and breech the Tower from the main gate.

They find themselves in the main tower structure, with several wings branching off from a great central chamber. Soon after their entry the power seems to cut out from the tower; as per their coordinated plans. It seems as if though the rats had accomplished their task down below, though without power the companions are limited in their progression forward.

They consider making the long climb up the interior of the main chamber but decide against it, citing the possibility of unknown dangers assaulting them whilst they find themselves without secure footing.

As the power had failed, a service hatch seemed to open to allow access to the sub levels of the Tower. The companions are lowered down a small lift into labyrinthine passages dense with machine steam and the sound of churning gears. Pressed on by an ominous clang of something else within the chambers somewhere, the companions find their way through the maze of halls.

They find themselves in a long chamber with a floor tiled with what seems to be different types of metalloid tiles. Dozens of mechanical constructs are strewn about in various states of disarray.

Ogg and the Hand move through the inert constructions, disabling them as best they can while Sayer and Elbanor inspect what seems to be the only exit; a large, sturdy bronzen door with an aperture centering it’s frame, no larger than a yorba fruit. The ceiling was thick with strands of heavy rubberized cords. Though a sign read that “That who places their arm within the orifice shall see no harm come to it”, Elbenor was less than convinced.

Sayer hesitated slightly, but eventually plunged his arm into the area. Feeling around, he was able to find a lever behind a small plate and with the flick of the switch opened the door. Unfortunately, he was the only one standing on the non-conductive platform. Everyone else around the room received a painful jolt of electricity upon activation of the door.

The companions continue on into what they find to be the workshop of Nozzalthorp Frayfeather. Elbanor finds a clockwork arm that seems to be appropriate to his liking and stows it in his bag. The companions work through a small puzzle involving pieces to a strategy game that Frayfeather seems keen on and eventually are able to send power to the parts of the tower deemed necessary.

Ignoring the lift from the workshop back up to the main levels, they backtrack as best as they can through the labyrinth. They are less successful in evading the mechanized guardian stalking the narrow chambers this time around. After being knocked around a bit they are able to sever the construct inert and the companions rush themselves the rest of the way out of the tight situation.

The companions venture into the Salon, finding a few chambers filled with recreational activities for enjoyment through diversion. Following the sound of elegant music, they find a large auditorium bereft of anyone besides a gentleman in the latter part of middle age playing at a magnificent piano on a raised dais.

Baron Samael Vargoss, as he introduces himself, seems to wear a mantle of dark black magic, an energy that Ogg finds himself repelled by. Though he admits to be one of the dark riders, the Baron spurs the notion of being beholden to the new Master of the Tower. Indeed, Samael seems willing to assist the heroes, should they bring him a crystal of deep crimson from Hush.

Though Sayer omits opinion, Elbanor and Ogg find him to be untrustorthy. The Hand has far less qualms, but agrees to not assist him. Though the Baron is slightly agitated by their lack of vision, he allows them to retreat back to the other parts of the Tower unimpeded.

The companions decide to search the Dormitories before advancing up the Tower, but having not empowered this wing they find themselves stalled while the Aurens siphon the necessary energy from elsewhere to open the door.

During this small hiatus, the Hand returns to the halls of the Salon to loot more art supplies. Alone, she finds herself confronted by the Baron. Entranced by his powers, she decides not only that he’s a pretty cool guy, but also that she should definitely bring him what he asks.

She then returns to her companions and explains all this to them immediately after the exchange. Perturbed, but not waylaid, the companions make their way into the Dormitories.

The companions prepare themselves for a fight, with the sounds of the clockwork soldiers marching to their position in the open courtyard deep within Shacklefield. The marching ceases for a time, to be replaced by sounds of combat. Further investigation by the heroes brings little to bear; the figures seemed to be in combat, but with whom they couldn’t determine.

After a moment to recover from the icy prison, the burly figure of Commander Jules Maynard rumbles up to his feet and begins assessing his situation. Seeing most of his fighting force brought low and in disarray, he conscripts the companions to his efforts, insisting on taking these noisy foes head on.

With great consternation, the heroes follow and the whole group is confused in seeing hordes of rats making short work of the clockwork soldiers. Maynard is greatly confused, but is quickly assuaged by the companions who suggest he see to his troops. Distracted from the dangers momentarily, Maynard rallies his troops and the whole lot of them begin the march back to the Black Star.

During the march, the companions brief Maynard on how helpful the roguish Boswell Dunbar had been through this crisis. Maynard seemed to withhold his opinions, continuing on in grim silence.

The group eventually reach their destination; Maynard throws open the doors and walks to the center of the large tavern, quick to confront the leader of this band of thieves. From his terraced office comes a little masked string of curses and Boswell soon rushes through the heavy doors into the common area. There is a tense moment of silence between the figureheads. Maynard’s Minutemen had since filed in and lined the wall opposite of the delinquents who had since abandoned their card games.

After several more moments of deliberate tension the Lord Commander thanks the roguish lord of the Black Star for his hospitality and formally requests the aid of Boswell and his forces. Boswell endorses the idea with a sheepish grin.

The shock hits all witnessing like a cudgel to the noggin. Following the display, the troops mingle in with the bandits and there is a general good time to be had by (mostly) all. Perhaps troubled by what’s to come, Sayer spurs the advances of Thranka.

~

After a well earned rest, the companions come together again with the figureheads they’ve brought together. Each represent their own opinions on how to proceed.

The companions find themselves deep within the no-man’s land of the grounds around the Tower of Solastarum. They hide among the rubble left from the charnel monstrosity. The Tower activates with the grinding of gigantic gears and the front door lifts into the mechanical structure. From which, hundreds of clockwork soldier automatons march in perfect harmony.

They take notice of the group and send a small contingent to investigate, but with the quick thinking of the Hand are soon distracted. The companions escape across the field, quickly scaling the Central Curtain and taking cover among the fortifications.

Eager to gain more information on the automatons, On’ogg tosses his shiny Crystal Heart from the gatehouse heights into the latter end of the line of automaton. There is a few moments of chaos as the clockwork soldiers are set upon by the stone elemental. The smaller contingent of soldiers are cleared away, but at great cost to the elemental. The stone creature bends open the gates to allow the companions to escape and is then sent towards the tower.

Elbanor takes possession of some of the scrap from the machines and is able to open some of the security doors with it’s remains. The Hand ponders the nature of such odd constructions and finds herself able to mimic the simpler routines of their communications.

The companions trudge wearily into Shacklefield, finding the whole area to be engulfed in flame. The further they press inward, the more intense the inferno became. The find little among the destruction before coming to a large pub of sorts. Eager to salvage what he can,Sayer investigates a trap door behind the bar. Happy with the found resources, he presses deeper into the underchamber, finding a door to the alley above.

Outside he encounters a death knight, and attempts to lay an attack on the foe before backtracking to his friends. Not only does the attack fall short, but the lumbering knight whispers a word of magic and holds Sayer fast, frozen in his step.

Taking his time, the mysterious knight closes the distance to the helpless swashbuckler. With a great heft, he swings his huge sword in a vicious arc in what must surely be a killing blow. At the last moment, a circle of arcane runes shield Sayer, shattering like a heavy glass plane. Elbanor had protected his friend from assured death.

The sword deflects slightly and strikes to tremendous effect. Still relatively intact, Sayer collapses on the ground, barely conscious. With the last of his energy, he struggles to stay awake as he feels himself lifted by his collar. Up he rises until his feet nigh even touch the ground. Opening his eyes, he looks down on his assailant; glowing blue eyes are lit with a frozen cold energy deep within the helm of the knight. In a surge of violence, Sayer is slammed headlong into the wall and he falls immediately into a pool of black.

~

The rest of the companions come to investigate after Sayer fails to rejoin the group. The find the alleyway bereft of any life. Indeed, not much shows the passing of the moments prior besides Sayer’s sword laying in the middle of the passageway. Overwhelmed by ill omens, the group chases signs only minutely picked up by the Hand. Signs of a dark creature’s passing through the area.

The group is temporarily separated by falling debris from the fires. Ogg continues on alone. He comes to the edge of a large open marketplace, with what seems like a huge, frozen portal of sorts in the center. Dozens of icebound pillars surround the portal. The figure of the death knight is seen on the far side, holding an unconscious Sayer aloft. With some motions of his free hand, the death knight bounds the cavalier in a frozen block of standing ice, not unlike the other pillars in the area. The death knight turns to On’Ogg at the paladin’s approach.

With Ogg beckoning the unholy knight of darkness, the two meet in combat. Swords clash, and though Ogg lashes out with radiant power to great effect, he finds himself at a disadvantage to the hulking knight’s sheer size. Ogg uses the environment to shield his movements, diving out of the way of the death knight’s world cleaving blows.

After a few moments, Elbanor and the Hand catch up. With some quick thinking, they see that the portal seems to be important to whatever this creature is plotting. Noticing it’s made entirely from a form of glass-like ice, Elbanor casts a shatter spell on the structure. Ogg experiences a small respite from the onslaught of the death knight’s attacks as the foe turns it’s attention on the portal.

The Hand hears the scream of what seems to be a young girl. With her keen eyes, she spots the ghostly outline of a young human female being pulled in an uncanny fashion toward the vortex of magic that seemed to now be circling the crumbling ruin of the portal.

The death knight breaks of his attack completely from the orcish paladin, moving in a full run toward the girl. It seemed to try and prevent the slide of the ghostly figure into the vortex, but could not grasp her outstretched hands. With the last seconds of the collapsing energy, the girl and the knight both fall into the energy and disappear from the area.

The companions are thoroughly stunned, finding themselves among the open marketplace alone. The icy pillars seem to be melting quickly without the magic of the portal to sustain them within the area, for the flames still burn heartily in the surrounding buildings.

They quickly recover Sayer, who though clearly in a state of serious injury, seems capable of a recovery over time. They also notice that the rest of the figures frozen in the ice seem to wear the armor and trappings of Minutemen.

They set up a quick triage area and the Hand begins stabilizing the survivors when suddenly they hear the iron march of clockwork soldiers from the streets beyond. The companions stand ready to defend their fallen friends against another wave of danger in the city of Khalsbrad.

The companions fall back to the refuge of the Black Star, thoroughly harried by the events at the Arcanum Severatum. Nearly in a state of collapse, they gain a much needed respite and after a rest convene in the offices of Boswell Dunbar to plan their next move.

A delegation from the Aurens reports of enemy activity at the site where the churn-house colossus fell. Wanting to avoid a further engagement with the monstrosity at it’s most potent form, the group decides to investigate the site, hoping to thwart whatever recovery had been initiated.

Escorted by the Auren scouts, the group find their way to the outskirts of the site. Soil from the Balefire Egress lay in great mounds through the city streets, prohibiting their progress. Nearby there are advanced scouts of Aurens, with whom the companions coordinate an improvised distraction.

The scouts gain the attention of several gaunt warriors and fall back to a position back away from the egress. With the initial forces cleared, the companions press the attack up the side of the grounded colossus. Though the pathway through the area is crooked and they are set upon by long dead corpses arising from excavated resting places, the companions are able to converge on a seemingly intact mausoleum.

Within they find the empty sarcophagi of a pair of brothers and a rough hewn passageway leading deeper into the colossus. Through the twisting path they find a small circular passage with the form of a grotesque figure channeling some fel incantation. As the sorcery reaches a crescendo, the companions feel the entire structure lurch forward.

Rushing forward to destroy the foe, the heroes are thrown about as they interfere with the delicate machinations of the colossus. When they finally destroy the creature within, the are overwhelmed by the sickening sensation of losing elevation at a rapid pace.

Rushing out of the chamber, they are pitched forward violently. The Hand loses her footing and barrels out of the hallway in free fall, with the ground nearly fifty feet below. Just outside the chambers she feels herself flung into strands of sticky substance, thin but strong. threads. A giant spider with flamboyant coloring creeps from the side, Akasha rescuing her friend from a messy death.

She winds together a strand of the cord and the companions scale down the crumbling colossus, debris falling around them. Once grounded again, they find themselves deep within the fields between the city wall structures and the Tower of Solastarum itself. A no-mans land, deathly still. The proximity of the Tower itself overwhelming the group with ill omens, it struck out from the landscape like a singular skeletal finger breaking from the grave.

The companions leave Constance to her grief in the great hall of the Arcanum Severatum, venturing out to investigate the building more. On’ogg finds the remains of several charred corpses strewn about in one hall; there might have been six in all. Though they were none more than charred bones, he found that they seemed to have met their fate within the last two days and did so while attempting to move a large trunk.

Being still intact, he drew it forth to his companions. Within they found a stash of several powerful artifacts and magical items. After distributing them to one another, they continued their investigation.

Sayer climbed a large statue on the far end of the hall. Turning his attention to an open book that the statue held aloft some twenty feet high, he noticed it to be some crude map, depicting the main continents of the known world. Three swirling lines crossed over the map from three far corners, each converging on a circular island in the middle.

Elbanor, Akasha and the Hand meandered into a large chamber in the western wing containing a library circled around a huge arcanolabe. The curious, spherical object dominated the room.

Three bronzen rings dominate the device. Through the use of magic detection, each seems to associate itself with an essence of arcane powers; positive energy, negative energy & the neutral energy in between.

The companions find the ceiling covered by an elaborate mural of the night sky, complete with accurate depictions of constellations. They find a plate in the upper hemisphere of the globe, where the three rings nearly converge. The plate is triangular, made of the near convergence of the lines.

Akasha is surprised to see that she can read the unfamiliar writing on the plate. It seemed to give information on three supreme essences of the magic realms; Solinari, goddess of positive arcanum, Nuitari goddess of neutral arcanum and Nuitari, god of negative arcanum.

They are described as three siblings. Though they seem to be diametrically opposed in there energies, there is no sign of conflict, as is typical in depictions of astral figures of good versus evil. While Akasha narrates the scriptures, the rest of the group attempts to discern the puzzle.

Eventually they shine a light through the small eye in the middle of the plate. It sends a beacon through the chamber, between a heavy bookcase into a crystal pylon at the top of a statue, where it refracted up to the mural above.

~

The mural reveals visual depictions of the three twins. The group ponders this some time then continues on.

They find several chambers along a hallway in the eastern wing. Sayer and Elbanor investigate further, walking into the darkness. Ogg, Akasha and the Hand watch as they are enveloped into the darkness. The next moment, the room shows no trace of their passing.

Elbanor and Sayer find themselves on a large wooden platform with a spotlight shining down on them from above. They are set upon by a figure dressed in the caricature of a noble knight. The knight responds to them, beseeching their help in vanquishing some great evil in the land. With quick thinking, they respond in affirmation, and ‘gallop’ off into the darkness.

Meanwhile, Ogg is deeply troubled by the disappearance. The Hand senses a strange flow of magical energy swirling in a vast whirlpool. From their present location, they seemed to be at the edge. The strife between the two come to a head and they have a short spat, where they part ways for a short time.

~

Sayer and Elbanor seem to find themselves in a gawdy play of sorts, during which they slay a spooky tentacle creature. The applause of the audience fades slightly until they find themselves in a well furnished office of sorts. They hear a series of meows and purring noises.

They notice a pneumatic tube that still seemed operational. Writing a brief message to their colleagues, they send the note through the vacuum. After a minute or so a note in the form of a paper triangle soars out of the tube and around the room in gentle circles. Unfolding the paper, they find a crude depiction of a somewhat lewd nature.

Perplexed, they continue out of the room. Within the first step they find themselves hurtling sideways, with the laws of nature bent on itself. Just barely holding to the edge of the door frame, they grip tightly above the chasm of the hallway pit.

~

Ogg and the Hand eventually come back together, deciding it best to press forward as a group. Though Akasha seems to prefer staying in the form of a cat, they persuade her to attempt to send a message by magical means to the separate party members.

They continue on, finding a set of steps leading to the levels below. Experiencing their own imbalance of gravitational discord. With varying degrees of expertise, they descend to a hall laden with what seems to be an extravagant feast set on a long table. While Akasha and the Hand dine a bit while Ogg resists the temptation of the delicious looking food.

He notices a yelling coming from the chambers without, and with swift motion charges the door with a long piece of table. It slams through the doorway, just barely catching a falling Sayer and Elbanor, who had just fell off of the ledge in the room adjoining.

Though Elbanor ricochets off the table and onto a large statue protruding from the wall below, they eventually recover and come together. Using a length of rope to scale down the rest of the chamber, they find themselves in a large chamber with a dark sorcerer sat upon a resplendent throne of sorts.

The figure stands at their approach, dismissing his seat with a flick of the wrist. He wore black robes the color of midnight. They flowed down onto the ground around him and seemed to be constantly buffeted around by a furious wind emanating from himself. Long swathes of black linens wrap most of the exposed areas of the dark wizard. A single fiery eye and an hideously grinning mouth was all that could be seen of the face beneath the cloth.

He beckons them forward; seemingly interested to see the faces of those who would dare disturb him in his realm. “Ah … it is you who have disrupted my work. I shall make your deaths TERRIBLE!”

Moments later they are in combat. He seems a highly potent spell caster, blasting them with crackling lightning. “How can you hope to defy such power..? Is it not easier to give in to the madness?!!”

Several mirror images of himself shield him from the initial attacks. As each illusion is shattered, it splatters with a sickly splatter against one of the walls, the viscous fluid glowing ominously. After a moment the liquefied remains of the images seem to change their structure and a strange scene is displayed, as if through a window in the wall. From these newly derived portals flow a group of small black creatures with hateful glowing eyes.

With Sayer and Ogg thoroughly engaged and taking the brunt of this dark caster’s focus, Elbanor and the Hand plunge headlong into the portal with Akasha in tow. “If you seek to shoulder this burden .. YOUSHALLHAVE IT!”

They find themselves in a circular room with rough hewn stone walls and a round catwalk coming around the expanse. From three points in this walkway there are small bridges to a central platform, where who they recognize to be a much younger Nozzalthorp Frayfeather a middle aged wizard are arguing. They seem to not pay the intruders any heed, but there are several guards standing at attention around the room which turn and his horribly at the newcomers.

Outside, with Sayer dealt with and Ogg being overwhelmed by the critters, he throws a strange wall of force around himself and begins the incantations of a powerful spell. “The stars align; FEARTHEIRPORTENT!”

A cataclysmic crash blasts the chamber from above. It seems as if the dark wizard is calling down the fires from the sky above to obliterate the trespassers. “You shall pay for your invasion into my city!”

Within the portal, the Hand, Elbanor and Akasha fight their way toward the central platform. The gnome and the wizard seem to be at odds as to the discharge of the Surge Needle, a device that they had apparently build to tap into the ley line. The wizard, who they surmised to be a young Madrygos, seemed incredulous that Frayfeather would try to halt their long work so close to it’s completion.

Outside two more ruinous meteors blast through the building from the heavens, exposing this dungeon chamber to the hideous laughter of the insane magus. Sayer has fallen and Ogg stands alone against the deadly foe.

Within, the others charge the central platform, having dispatched the shadowy guards. As they reach the scene a bubble seems to pop and they are expelled from the memory. As they do so the wall of force drops from around the dark wizard, his eye turned to the black sky, a fiery red orb in it’s reflection.

The heroes brace for impact, running from the hole in the ceiling but ultimately are wrecked outright by the carnage. Ogg and Elbanor especially are severely injured.

There is only a pile of fine ash remaining of the black sorcerer, who they discover to be Madrygos himself, turned by some horrible black magic into one of the Black Guard. Among the ashes they find a curious bracer of powerful arcane energy. The Hand slips it on her wrist, as the group hobbles to out of the chambers. The streets were deathly calm as they descended back into the relative safety of the sewers and staggered back to the Black Star.

The companions journey back from whence they came; up and out of the rancorous Asylum, through the eerily silent halls of the Garrison eventually coming back to the courtyard outside the medical billets. They climb the blockade at the vast doors and scale down the outer wall, soon slipping into the sewers and making their way to the Black Star Tavern.

After a short respite the companions come together to formulate their next move. They decide to seek out the Arcanum Severatum and its apparent abundance of powerful trinkets and magical artifacts. With the goal set they settle into a well earned rest, drifting apart to enjoy their down time in different ways.

Sayer the Swashbuckler and Thranka Suun fall in with a group of Boswell men. All seem eager to drink and gamble their circumstance away for a time. Sayer wakes after a time in the presence of Thranka. He notices that her vast tattoos seem to have intricate details and hidden details. When attempting to investigate further, he wakes her and she vacates the area quickly.

Akasha finds a comfortable place in the main room of the Black Star and crafts a musical hymn that bolsters the psyche of those who hear it. Many survivors who had been content alone in their chambers meander into the main room and lounge about in the warm light of her song.

The Hand of Acheron trades in a bawdy calendar illustration for additional helpings of soup. They warm themselves by the fire while affixed to Akasha’s music.

Elbanor spends much time crafting small batch concoctions in an effort to better ready his friends for the hardships to come.

On’ogg meditates on what he has learned during the recent trials… and perhaps tries to consider that which failed to completely grasp. He also cleans his sword quite a bit.

~

The companions come together again after their long rest. Before leaving the Black Star they go to Boswell. Apprising him of their circumstances, they restate their intent to assault the Tower at some point. He still seems non-committal, but has assisted in small ways that he was capable up to this point. Satisfied for the moment, the companions take their leave.

A small group of Boswell’s men stop the companions as the leave; it seems that Bartholomew and Constance had not checked in. They had been rather regular in their movements, so while their absence is not an absolute cause for concern, it is noteworthy.

~

After venturing through the underbelly of the city, meeting minimal resistance, the companions excavate themselves into a large open air park in the city. Looming just ahead of them some twenty yards is the Arcanum Severatum. A large building, well over fifty feet in height, the Severatum sits atop a set of wide, angled stairs. Huge pillars line the front of the building, which is as wide as a city block. An eerie green light emanates from deep within the cavernous maw of the entryway.

With a dreadful apprehension, the companions advance up the many steps leading to the Severatum. Coming to the open entrance, they see into a great hall lined with a dozen columns along each side reaching forward to the far end. At the far end seems to be some arcane structure; three craggy spires surround and pour a fel green power into a central, swirling vortex of the energy. Each spire stands at about ten feet high, like crooked skeletal fingers rising from the ground.

Within the whirlwind was suspended a humanoid figure, unrecognizable at this distance. Hand creeps along forward and notices a limp body on the far side of the area. Slipping forward, they recognize their associate in Constance, seeming to be completely unconscious. They also see that Bartholomew is the figure within this terrible energy.

Upon closer inspection, he seems to transition slightly between that which they recognize and a large creature of fang, claw and feather. The rest of the companions slip up to the area as well. In spite of their efforts, they seem unable to elicit a response from the mage.

Finding the spires to be deeply disturbing, they attempt to destroy them. As the first of the three breaks away, the bulk of is takes form into vaguely humanoid things and attacks the heroes. Hand is able to stave off death from Constance who slowly becomes aware of her surroundings after a time.

After a small melee, the companions destroy the rest of the first spire. Caught in the explosion, Bartholomew is thrown aside violently. With one of the spires destroyed, the balance of energy seemed to break apart in a blast of energy. The force of which seems to lessen some grip that contained his form. With a burst of bright light, the young mage is revealed to be an creature of celestial energy.

With some understanding, Ogg approaches the creature and attempts to pour his divine healing into him; but Bartholamew had suffered far too great a wound to recover. Constance stumbles over to him in confusion.

Apologizing for his deceit, he explains that the deceit was necessary to continue his interaction with this community unimpeded. He had found human civilization fascinating and hoped to learn more from such a charming young race. He also stated that his affection for her had not been a ruse, but an unexpected delight.

He had an understanding with the Madrygos, keeping his form secret to all but the Master of the Tower. It would be easier this way, they had decided. Madrygos had been a friend to him over the many years of his visiting Khalsbrad. That friendship had compelled him to the Arcanum Severatum, though Bartholamew could not divulge more information than that.

There was a moment shared between Constance and Bartholamew before he passed. The tiefling was overwhelmed by anguish and decided to sit vigil over her friend as his essence dispersed into the wind.

The companions begin their descent into the bowels of the Asylum. In the small chambers on the upper floors they found a scattered filing system for the dossiers of the interred. Soon they came across one marked as Nozzalthorp Frayfeather.

It seemed remarkable in it’s equivocal nature. He had been marked as criminally insane and imprisoned for seventeen years, though the file itself only contained one leaf of parchment. The crime itself only stated ‘disturbing the peace’; quite trivial. It did state that he was chambered in Cell Block F, so they continued their search with renewed vigor.

Deeper they sink, passing through cell blocks in horrendous states of decay. The sound of chains clanking and inhuman croaking wafts from many dark crevices. The smell alone served as a fierce deterrent against excessive investigation.

They eventually come to the area of the asylum where they expect to find Frayfeather. A great many cells line the floor below an expansive catwalk above. They descend from this walkway to the floor below.

The Hand notices that the ground below seems to dissolve all forms of magic. It ponders the use of such a force field for some time.

On’ogg smites down one of the vile, grasping creatures within the cell. It explodes in a flash of necrotic energy, leaving many more of the shambling horrors erupting in screams mingled with the clanking of chains.

Sayer and Akasha nimbly sidestep the rest of the cells, finding a quiet little gnome attempting to ignore as best he can the noise.

With some coaxing, they are able to get Frayfeather to converse with them. They learn that he has in fact chosen to be interred here, in an attempt to be near his finest and only creation; the Tower of Solastarum. Apparently, he and Master Madrygos had some sort of falling out during the final phases of the Tower’s construction.

Frayfeather had warned that the ley line in which they would be tapping should not be disturbed; that though it hold great power, there was an innate magic of ancient origin that they did not fully comprehend. He seemed content with staying in the cell until the companions apprised him fully of the situation outside. With the news of the Tower having fallen into another’s control, he felt compelled to assist.

After some effort in the form of a convoluted discussion and a narrow rope ladder, they extricate Frayfeather from his cell. With the master builder in tow, they fall back to the Black Star.

The group confront Thranka, who has utilized the equipment in the armory to arm herself appropriately. Sayer is able to diffuse the situation short of violence. They all continue towards the Asylum.

After crossing a small bridge high above the city streets below, they find Dixmont Asylum in a state of complete disorder. There are the echoes of those still confined far below mingled with the continual din of rodents moving freely throughout the chambers. Finding a passage marked as ‘Arcano-Misanthropical Interment’, they climbs the narrow stairs to investigate.

As they continue, they find the rats moving about the passages more and more numerous. It becomes apparent that not only are these rodents scurrying about the edges of the chambers and halls, but scrambling through the walls themselves.

They come upon a centralized chamber at the top of this parapet; there is a large rotary chair in the center and mysterious rune discs in a circling perimeter. To their horror they find a corpse in the chair. His entire head seems to have been gnawed off.

The heroes soon realize that they are in the midst of hundreds of rats now. They seem to hold value in an array of crystals throughout the chambers around the main room. When become agitated when Ogg disturbs the arrangement.

It seems that in the weeks prior, a prisoner in the tower had bent the rats to his will. Before they would commit themselves to whatever nefarious plot the prisoner had concocted, the Luminus Nocturne struck, disrupting all within the city of Khalsbrad.

It was heralded in the asylum by a dark figure, who set the crystals with some ill purpose. The horde of rats have used it as a sort of psychic sustenance. The companions had much discussion on the morality of such perverse creatures. They concluded that if the horde would abstain from devouring the arcane energy within the crystals that they could be sanctioned.

Feeling a little out of his element with the complicated arcane arrangement, Ogg gave Thadeous the crystal. The gnome felt a presence within; it was … familiar. With a gasp Thadeous recognized what he had in his hands. Memories of his childhood flooded over him. There was a love that he yearned for, paternal in nature. He had finally found what had been stolen from his father and soon reclaimed the crystal associated with his mother.

He disclosed briefly the sorry state of his beloved parents. Then after a few words of warning about the vile necromancer who had cost him so much, he wrapped about him his magic cloak and was off to return to his beloved parents.

The companions come together after their rest in the ‘rope trick’ brought about by Bartholomew. The more observant among them noticed the camaraderie between the young wizard and his friend Constance. It was earnest, familial. The disparity between their small friendship and the current tension between the companions was palpable.

Thadeous successfully removes the cursed affliction from Sayer. Though he recovered fully, Sayer still carries a darkness mood. He seems particularly distraught about being abandoned by his friend Ogg while he was suffering the curse.

The companions are given a key by Constance. Now with access to the Minutemen garrison proper. They come across a guard’s room, but find it of little use. They take an opportunity to outfit themselves in the armory, then continue on. While wandering the halls, they hear a disembodied whistling noise… They are unable to glean it’s origin right away.

They descent into the chambers below, finding more footnotes on local happenings in the militia. They also find a large clockwork elevator, but it seems out of order. They also find a large room with heavy desks and dossiers on recent criminal activity in Khalsbrad.

The companions continue on and find a small set of cells with a very alive, very unruly young woman within. She seems as wary of them as they of she, and hesitates to explain her situation in detail. Ogg is unconvinced of her good nature. He casts a spell that should keep her from falsifying her story, but senses that she is able to resist his charms.

They eventually release her. She panics a bit when they tell her of the current situation and there is a small altercation. She runs off in the scrum and is soon lost in the chambers above.

The group splits to find signs of Thranka. Akasha, Elbanor, The Hand and Thaddius find themselves searching another set of light cells. It seems that others had found themselves in a similar predicament as Thranka, to a grimmer end.

They are caught unaware by a grim specter, apparently attracted by some commotion nearby.

~

In a few chambers over, Sayer confronts Ogg, ready to crash into him with wave after wave of bad feelings. Through his pendant of mind reading he reveals a great sadness that he has been keeping to himself; a story of his crewmate’s malignant transformation. The loss he felt. The hope of a new companion in this orcish knight, and the betrayal he felt when Ogg left him to chase the next big monster. When this last use of the pendant is expanded, the ruby held within cracks.

It’s at this point that they hear the noise of their friends battling some ghastly creature.

~

Just before Sayer and Ogg rush into the fray, the abhorrent specter flashes a wave of necrotic energy outward. Finding the light to be painfully bright, everyone averts their eyes; with the exception of Thaddeus. He stares on into it’s deathly gaze, and falls over unconscious.

Watching his new friend collapse into a dreadfully pale pile of gnome, Elbenor calls out with the words of his divine power and banishes the specter. Ogg and Sayer rush in, painfully ignorant of much of the happenings. There is a little time left before the spell would consume in on itself.

They take position to engage this creature should it pull it’s way out of the banishment. There is but moments hanging in the air before the spell runs out of magik juice. They await with bated breath. Surely it will tear it’s way back in any moment.

They are shocked by the sound of Thranka whistling nearby, and with a bellowing roar Ogg runs up a flight of stairs towards the sound.

The heroes are confronted by Karth Drachum, twisted and malformed into a vicious death knight of the Black Guard. He was sent here to oversee the completion of the charnel monstrosity.

Combat ensues; On’ogg and his nemesis clashing in the most epic of ways. Karth fights a top a black stallion of nightmare for a time, but the creature eventually vanquished. Bereft of his dreadful steed, Karth undergoes a self induced transformation.

Nearly doubling in size Karth attacks with renewed intensity, swinging a giant axe with unholy strength. There is a bloodthirsty joy in his assault; he has truly become an aspect of death and destruction.

The companions remain steadfast, with Ogg bearing much of the brunt of the attacks. He lashes out radiant energy and is able to defeat his nemesis. A last look of confusion washes over Karth’s stupid face as he is destroyed. Ogg burns his remains with the flame of his vengeful sword.

~

Everyone takes the time to reconvene in the lower levels of the Auren stronghold to discuss the happenings. The graveyard colossus seems to have moved away from Balefire Egress and is now wading through the city. Any companions that had been suffering from signs of soul crushing apathy seem to have waves of relief wash over them as Karth’s second death is wrought in flame.

Jotun Borzegar recommits his Aurens to help the companions overthrow the evil in the tower, stating that when the time came he would be there to help. Until then he agreed to continue scouting the area, reclaiming supplies from the area. They would also hold the Temple at Balefire Egress, as it seems to hold some degree of power against the darkness.

With the Aurens appropriately tasked out, the companions decide to return to the Black Star Tavern. Two Auren scouts escort them to the tunnel systems within the city. About 100 paces from the stronghold, they notice that the group is being followed.

With animal cunning they loop around and catch their assailant unaware; toppling their query over directly. They find a peculiar little person. They claim to have some connection to Elbanor .. indeed, most of it’s form is a bland white with the exception of it’s right hand. It had the look of the same hand that Elbanor lost in the days prior.

The one striking feature of the Hand is it’s eyes; they mist over a deep black when it casts magic; which seems inherent to the being. The group knows not exactly what to do with this person, so they allow it to come along for now. Also, it seems able to change it’s appearance at will.

The group returns to the Black Star, does some things, then heads out to search for the Minuteman Compound. Still traveling in the sewers below, they elude contact with monstrous colossus. They meet little resistance. Small groups of rather stupid skeletal minions are scouring the tunnels, but they make short work of them.

Emerging in a side street near the compound, they creep along to the curtain wall circling the facility. Somebody attracts the attention of several skeletal archers, who appear in windows overlooking the open space. Ogg is hit, and is wracked by vengeful energy. He cannot find a straight way to dole out retribution to his attackers, and is caught in a quandary of sorts.

Thankfully, Elbanor takes the choice out of his hands by enveloping the entire area in dense fog. Ogg lowers a shoulder and charges the general area where he seen the door to the fortress to be. He plows headlong into it. Parts of the door collapse, but it holds. Determining that there is quite a bit of barricading on the inside, they endeavor to find an alternate route inside.

The archers seem befuddled by the dense cover of the fog and fail to give proper chase. Indeed, the Hand also seems rather confused by the scene and almost falls headlong over a terraced wall. Though the idea of experiencing a fall to their death seems new and exciting, they deem it necessary to survive some time longer (though they do not rule out an eventual nosedive for some other time).

The companions sidle down the edge of the wall a ways, eventually finding another entrance. They find several offices in a general state of destruction on the inside. A large gate blocks their advance in one direction, so they continue in the other direction.

What they find is a medical facility of sorts, with rooms full of files, ready rooms, examination rooms, etc. They are able to loot some useful herbs, but find little by way of clues. Moving on they come to a large open courtyard with signs of the barricade along one side, a long tower on the other and a long cabin across the way.

Investigating further they find a mound of corpses; some seem to be freshly brutalized soldiers while other seem to be medically preserved. The Hand takes the form of a young woman, not much out of her teenage years. She does so without much apprehension while the rest of the group look on horrified.

Before much interaction can ensue, a horrible creature lumbers out of the tower entrance way. No smaller than an ogre, it dragged a gore drenched body in it’s hand. Where it’s face should have been was only large round whole, circled with small pointy teeth. Gross!

The companions engage. At some point, the creature radiates a horrible magic. Sayer the Swashbuckler is blasted by it; he immediately suffers violent looking rashes on most of his upper body as his face swells grossly.

The companions eventually defeat the creature. They find Sayer severely debilitated by the curse and move to the cabin. They find a small morgue of sorts and clear a space to rest. Setting a guard, they settle in.

When Ogg has his turn for watch, he slips out into the night. He goes to investigate the tower by himself. He finds the bottom level drenched in blood and gore, with a few limbs thrown sporadically around. He continues up the tower by himself, finding a haphazard barricade at the top of several flights of stairs. It seems several Minutemen made a last stand here. The barricade was in shambles.

Akasha and Elbanor notice that Ogg is missing and slip out to recover him. They start up the tower, finding him fumbling with a contraption that seems to move large ballista up through the ceiling. With combined efforts, they figure out how to use the device to kind of auto-load a huge seigebreaker on top of the tower.

They accidentally drop a massive bolt off the tower, spiking violently near the cabin below, which wakes up the rest of the group. Though they want to come aid, they are encumbered by Sayer’s unfortunate growths.

With Akasha watching through a distance finder below, Ogg and Elbanor begin firing the uber-ballista at the colossus. The first blasts is lost visually until it hits a building nearby the colossus. The near miss causes the hulking mass to begin moving from it’s place across the city.

Elbenor casts a light spell on the tip of the next projectile, illuminating it so that they could watch it’s progress. They fire again, and watch it streak across the sky, blasting the colossus in it’s hulking mass. Hit!

With the bolts now lighting up the sky, they seem to notice a reaction from the Tower of Solastarum. They continue to fire on the colossus, scoring several hits among a few misses. At this point large flying creatures begin assailing them, attempting to knock them from the summit of the tower. One final blast is needed, as they expose the core of the creature.

Ogg and Elbenor strike out. Direct hit! The creature goes down. As they flee, several more flying beasts almost succeed in knocking Elbenor to his death, but Ogg succeeds in holding his friend fast. Finding Akasha below, they flee down into the tower.

They meet up with the rest of their friends and run back to the medical facilities, barely making it before the flying beasts close on their position. They run into Bartholomew and Constance, who brings news of a mad gnome held deep within the Dixmont Asylum who should have knowledge of the Tower of Solastarum.

Bartholomew opens a ‘rope trick’, allowing a safe place to recover while they all plan their next move.

They move through the Cedar Quarter, careful to not attract any unwanted attention. A peculiar figure, bereft of strong description follows some distance behind, strangely compelled to find them. The companions are largely unaware of it’s presence, and it becomes easily distracted by wonderful new sensations as it progresses along.

~

The companions find their way to the edge of a large park, the bulk of which is in the shape of a shallow bowl with a large stone pavilion in the center. A dense mist with a sickly green hue settles on the area. Where they had once seen signs of ten or so large green fires burning, now they find only four.

Moving forward, they find a large mob of skeletal horrors locked in combat with large beasts. The creatures move at a speed that makes it difficult to discern much detail. Though they fight with great ferocity, the seem to find the numbers of their assailants overwhelming. A pair of skeletal warrior move among them, causing much havoc.

The companions rush in to fight off the abhorrent undead, finding themselves fighting alongside several large werewolves. This continues for a short time. Suddenly a fiery blast emanating from the temple entrance destroys several adversaries directly among the companions. The magic seems to bend around them, sculpted in an all too familiar fashion. They turn to see their old friend Thadeous Wobblegrinder among the combatants!

With their combined efforts, they are able to destroy the pair of lich brothers. The werewolves seemed to not be hostile, so they all convened within the structure, where the large beasts turned back into several dwarven priests. One had fallen in combat. All but one filed down into the structure below.

The lone dwarf introduced himself as Jotun Borzegar, a member of the the Aurens. He explained his sect to be non-denominational clerics in the service of honoring the dead among the city of Khalsbrad. The companions were at first apprehensive, but soon realized that Jotun and his brothers provided a great service to those in the city.

Taciturn and solitary, the Aurens performed the vast majority of the burial rites for the departed of Khalsbrad. With their great respect for their work, the dwarves found the desecration of the area profoundly vexing. They gave the companions food and shelter, and were soon convinced to join in their efforts to assault the source of evil within the Tower of Solastarum, when the time came.

The group relished the reprieve from the dangers of the city, outfitting themselves as best they could and debriefing Thaddeus of his own adventures. Akasha found the werewolves to be profoundly beautiful, finding fellowship with their struggles. Sayer assessed their equipment stores. Ogg thoughtfully asked of Jotun more information on their work.

Finding the young orc to be sincere and trustworthy, Jotun brought him to a ritual held behind closed doors. Ogg witnessed them giving a ceremony to their fallen comrade. Though he found some aspects of the ritual disturbing, he remained respectfully quiet in the back. Jotun later explained that since they were unable to return their dead back to the stone, that the blood concord would serve.

After gathering their strength, the decide to attempt to signal the Callehad. Sayer and Thaddeus hold the main level with the Auren warriors. Ogg and Akasha ready themselves on the spiral steps of the pavilion. Crawford and Elbanor climb the parapet above and prepare to relay the signal light.

As they transmit the message, they notice the last of the green bonfires is extinguished. A deep rumbling seems to be shaking the grounds all around the temple. A great shifting throws tumbling rock in all directions, the earth itself was rising. The companions look on in horror as a gigantic arm took shape from the turned cemetery ground, pulling up more and more as a colossus unearthed itself.

When it was about waist height, it reared back it’s huge fist as to strike the top of the parapet. Just as Crawford and Elbanor finished their transmission and fled back into the tower, the arm crashed down. A flash of bright light enveloped all as the stonework first shook, then resisted the assault. Indeed, vast chunks of earth bouldered down on the grounds around the temple.

Then from the mists marched another mob of skeletal horrors, this one with a Black Rider among their numbers. He lifted a dreadful hand and pointed to those taking refuge within, and when prodded into response by Sayer’s provocation, responded in orcish ‘you will all die this night’ before laughing horribly. Throwing off his mantle, he revealed himself as Karth Drachum, twisted by a horrible undeath.

The heroes fall back to the Black Star to establish the best coarse of action. They decide to search for Margot DeVry, considering her to be not only an asset to their cause, but their responsibility.

They navigate the tunnels below the city, emerging topside within the Cedar Quarter, normally a fashionable area of town. Investigating the area, they find the Gilded Goose Inn, where they know Margot to have been last seen. Finding several cleverly made traps intact, they venture forth with new found hope. Indeed, they find not only Margot, but her colleague Bartholomew along with his regular escort, Constance.

While they debate the plan of leaving their defended position, Sayer and Constance both witness a group of dark riders in the streets outside. A sheer panic overwhelms them both, spinning their psyche out of control. They are deeply affected for a time, but the group eventually ventured outside again.

They move towards the southern curtain wall, where they knew the Callehad to have been docked, but they found it to have taken flight and was now airborne. Periodically the ship would send a volley at the barrier, but it seemed to have little effect.

Thoroughly perturbed, the companions felt themselves falling into the depths of despair. Dissatisfied with the lack of definitive information about the barrier in front of them, Elbanor strode forward and pushed his hand into the dark energy. His body began to convulse in wracking fits as his lifeforce was sucked out through his arm.

Energy burned his appendage up to his elbow; in it’s wake was left an ashy shell of his arm. A cold wind blew through the area, shattering the remains into a fine dust. He watched it be carried away as he fell unconscious.

Night of Lights

The heroes flee into the sewers, accompanied by Katell Crawford and Breuggar, a few sell swords found in the same predicament. Breuggar reveals a rudamentary knowledge of the sewers.

The tunnel systems were developed by the governing Houses as an apparent act of civil development, new to the city and outside the original design plans of the city. In reality, they were constructed for the benefit of the House’s alternative business opportunities, shielding their movement from the prying eyes of Master Madrygos, should he ever return to his typical scrutiny of their actions.

The group encounter several bandits who upon sight of the heroes, flee deeper into the tunnels. The group dispatch one while another escapes, running forward to deactivate a drainage system. Water begins to fill the chamber, pressing the heroes onward at a rapid pace. During the scrum Breuggar is trapped by a closed gate and is left behind.

The group forge on, crossing into a well kept tavern. Still having vague signs of being part of the subterranean tunnels, the ‘BLACKSTAR’ seems to be the main hideout of the bandits. The companions have a brief altercation with their leader, Boswell Dunbar before a collapse in the ceiling above brings down a horrible creature seeking to snuff out their lives.

Though for a time Sayer is wholly swallowed by it’s horrific maw, the combined effort of his friends and Boswell’s terrified bandits are able to slay the creature. Boswell is soon informed by his scouts of the peril above ground and sees to the preparations needed to evacuate his people.

With the aid of Boswell’s scout, the group venture above to see for themselves what is happening in the streets. They emerge in a back alley; ominous windows bereft of any signs of life seem to stare down at them like menacing eyes. They creep along, climbing a barrier wall for a better vantage.

From the wall above, they found that several districts of the city were ablaze. A series of strange green lights circled a small temple in the middle of fields in the southern district of Khalsbrad. A violent explosion blasted heavy stones from a squat building to the north, from which several small figures could be seen floating down eerily to the city below. Adjacent to the smaller building a formidable fortress with towering spires.

A mass of moving creatures rotated around the upper half of the Tower of Solastarum. Suddenly the gears of the tower began creaking to life. As they looked on, a dark storm of energy seemed to billow from the machinery come to life, as if bleeding from the Tower itself. It congealed in a huge, circular mass at the apex, then with a surge of energy erupted from the top like a geyser. It billowed out in a huge circle overhead, falling like a dark curtain around the curtain wall of the city.

The companions looked on aghast, taking in the harsh reality of destruction around them. Khalsbrad had fallen to a dark foe beyond reckoning and as far as they could tell, they were the only people capable of doing anything about it.

Several days of travel bring them deep into the northern reaches, the cold weather becoming more and more apparent as they draw nearer to Khalsbrad. The companions finally reach the city in the evening, docking on the outer rim of the city walls and venturing forth. Captain Castien takes note of a slight peculiarity. In the past he found a certain warmth among intellectual populace lingering among the gothic structures; students debating around huge stone hearths and dazzling exhibitions of practical magics for crowds of onlookers to appreciate. Now the streets seem riddled by seedy fellows with grim visages.

Suddenly there are several bursts that ring out through the city. Looking up at the Tower in the distance, they see that the blasts are originating from one of the upper parapets of Solastarum, illuminating the night sky with explosions. People begin creeping from households and taverns to witness and discuss with uncertain faces these ominous portents.

After a minute or so the lights subside, leaving the onlookers to their grim thoughts. The sense of uneasiness grows with every moment. Hadn’t the Tower been quiet for months now? What was Madrygos up to? The tension seems to spur the companions to action; the begin move quickly through the crowd, eager to close the distance to the Tower.

Then came the awful grinding noise, like huge machinery all around them. The companions were at a full run at this point, Castien himself leaping forward in great bounds. They found their progress halted abruptly by thick metal sheets closing in an aperture in front of them, closing off a gate. About twenty paces to their rear a similar gate was closing, cutting them off from Castien and trapping them in this passageway.

There was a loud shattering as pieces of glass fell from above; something rather large had crashed through an upper window of the building. Panicked shrieks could be heard from within. A stunned merchant staggering near Sayer was plucked bodily by another creature, taken right off the street and carried into the night sky.

A few gruff looking veterans began peeling the sewer cover from one of the ground vents and escaped below. Flames exploded another window nearby, the heat could be felt billowing forth from within. Thoroughly stunned by the scene, the companions follow the veterans into the sewers. Another creature attempts to abscond with Ogg but finds his resistance more than capable to deflect the attacks. With one final look at the street above, Ogg pulls the cover closed and the companions flee into the sewers.

The companions poke around a few tents, well used but bereft of occupants. They also try their hand at games of luck and skill. Eventually they come upon a large, rather derelict looking house.

Inside they find keepsakes and heirlooms of all kinds. Pressing in towards the inner rooms, they notice a strange substance seems to convert many of the treasures. Like thick magenta tendrils, they seem to emanate from a parlor ahead.

Inside they come upon the horrific visage of a winged creature cradling the husk of some poor should in its arms. The air within is dense with the pinkish hue that seems to cover everything. Next to the creature sits Akasha Delithrang, who turns eyes completely blackened towards her former companions.

There is a scuffle as the broken husk moves to engage the trespassers; Akasha herself binds some of the attackers into stasis. The winged creature takes a step and slides into another plane.

Amid the chaos the an elven girl approaches On’ogg from behind, urging him and his friends to take Akasha far away from this place. The next moment she is gone. The husk slumps to the ground and Akasha returns to normal.

As they move to escape, they are confronted by a mob of vicious sideshow creatures led by a macabre Ringleader and dozens of carnies.

~

The heroes are confronted by Rowan Mauldenthorn, recognized by Akasha as the ringleader. Accompanied by strange and terrible members of the sideshow act and a host of carnies, Rowan engages the heroes, attempting to steal back Akasha.

Rowan strikes out with dark magic and throws his forces at the group. He is eventually defeated, though the victory came at some cost. Feeling somewhat depleted, Akasha opens up a portal into a cottage of relative safety. They set watch and recover their strength. Late in the watch, Akasha notices that the corpses of the fallen from the hours before have been removed. Investigating further, they notice the smoke of fire deeper in the trees.

The group investigate an abandoned campsite, finding the charred remains of the carnies. Deep ruts have been carved into the mud; a wagon of some sort had been wheeled out of the area. They pursue, following the tracks. Akasha summons a badger.

For almost a full day they continue their trek, daring not to venture further off the path. Hours pass until they finally see signs of their query. They approach the site, a large wooden carriage with a cozy fire burning outside sit idle on the side of the road. They enter the carriage and find Vostok Ivanovich himself within, sitting in a large, ornate chair. His voice billows out, tinny and disconnected. It seems to emanate from his general direction rather than his corporal form.

He attempts to strike a bargain, acknowledging that his power has been depleted. Piles of gold and powerful trinkets, for the soul of Akasha. He covets the young elf and is eager to add her again to his menagerie. The heroes decline outright. Suddenly the walls fall away and the group find themselves outside again.

Figures begin stalking out of the woods surrounding the camp, wooden marionettes serving as macabre parodies of man. Vostok himself grows in size, his limp figure lifted out of the chair as if by strings tethered to some giant hand. Dark magics transform the marionette into a large, horrific face with jagged rows of teeth. Several long, disjointed limbs stretch from the circling black void below the giant face. A portal swirls into for from his rear and three more marionettes run forth.

Each wears a unique mask; one of crimson flame, one of noxious violet and one of frantic splays of emerald. Spidery words spew forth from Vostok’s maw, the incantations of magic. One of the grossly elongated limbs pluck the marionette with the flaming mask and drops it into the maw. The molten mask materializes on Vostok and the horde of marionettes now engaging with the heroes begin blasting forth gouts of flame.

After a time, the mask breaks and falls away. He then plucks another of the masked marionettes from the crowd, consuming it as well. The dark purple mask of death now frames ‘his’ face, the crowd of underlings explode and desecrate the land when they fall in combat. There is a billowing screech of some large creature flying overhead, out of site.

Again the mask breaks and falls away; the third marionette is consumed and a green mask of hysteria covers Vostok. The horde now attempts to bring the heroes close, driving them mad with a lunatic’s gaze.

Ogg engages directly with Vostok while Sayer handles many of the mannequins. Much of the area now ablaze from the earlier torrents, the heroes are in dire straights. Elbenor casts healing spells on the group before being driven momentarily mad and flees the area. Akasha throws forth spells before being struck by several mannequins.

Suddenly a roar tears through the clearing and a massive creature lands nearby the young elf. A large creature with powerful wings and scales vibrantly colored in hues of red and purple begins wreaking destruction against the mannequins.

The wyvern gives the heroes a slight reprieve, allowing them to focus their efforts on Vostok and they are able to land the killing blow. He billows out in fury as the void consumes him. All that is left is the large corpse of a rather tall man, strong in features but ordinary.

Bending magics to her will, Akasha speaks to the regal wyvern. He offers his gratitude for her having released him from his bonds so long ago. She asks him what he will do now and he responds that he has no plan besides flying free, which Akasha realizes is a plan in and of itself. She clasps a worn key around her neck as the wyvern takes flight and departs.

The group notice a screech as Pompoko flees from the treeline. They investigate and find Odilla hastily making runes in the ground. She opens a portal and allows the heroes to travel through the shadow realm back to the ship.

Sayer awakens with a start, the feeling all too familiar as of late. Failing to find much company to share drink aboard the Callehad this evening he had retired early (well.. by swashbuckling standards anyways). With their purpose renewed, the elves were poor company. He resolved to get some air.

He found it quiet topside, dark. Though the deck of the Callehad certainly had it’s familiarities; the thick scent of timber and the creaking of well oiled rigging, he could never be at home here. Missing was the gentle caressing of the sea, the soft spray of her roiling waves.

Standing at the port side he scanned over Boros, the city settling into a sleep that so evaded him. With a crooked grin he conceded that the Harpy never had a view quite like this.

Noticing a light casting him in shadow from behind, Sayer turned to see who else couldn’t find sleep.

Before him stood the slight form of an elven maiden, adorned in a shining gossamer slip of robes. She was painfully beautiful, even by Aelostrian standards. Radiant white hair fell in swift layers around her delicate face. In her eyes could be found a deep sadness. She stared up at Sayer, no more than three paces from him.

Sayer found himself frozen in place; words alluded him. The light he discerned came from no torch. It framed her, seemed to emanate from her soft, delicate skin. Before he could say a word, the young elf raised a hand, offered to him a thick fold of paper. Her eyes seemed to be pleading. Raising an eyebrow Sayer accepted the missive and just as he opened his mouth to speak there was a flash of light. A brisk wind blew in from the bay, carrying with it the salt of the ocean.

Once again he stood alone on the deck.

~

Awaking his friends, the companions open the parcel, finding therein four exclusive tickets to the Bacchanal of Oddities and Antiquities. Calling on Castien, they venture forth some way from town to a staging area, their thoughts on their absent friend Akasha Delithrang. Finding a tent with apparent magical properties, they each hold their ticket and step forth. Without a ticket for himself, Castien seems unable to continue, confirmed some time later through rigorous trial and error.

They are successful in retrieving the resources from the mining claim of Gordon Stonethrow, though in doing so they found the fate of the lost miners. A particularly rich vein of the precious metals wound down into the depths of the cavern, from which a host of crystal spiders skittered forth. A timely use of ‘Rope Trick’ and some particularly fierce pyrotechnics drove back the clutch, allowing the group to mine the resources by torchlight.

With their end of the bargain complete, Gordon reinforces the hull with panels of Skystone.

Avoiding an evening of drinking with the others, On’ogg wanders into the tinkershop of Wilhelm von Keurig where he is tasked with retrieving a wrongly delivered package from Wilhelm’s chief adversary, Conroy Leipshneitz. It seems that instead of sending Conroy a celebratory victory cake, he sent his former intellectual colleague the complete research notes meant for the offices of the ‘Scientific League of Thinkers’.

Wilhelm offhandedly sends Ogg into the recent past to rectify the issue, where he eats a large lemon cake in a nearby cafe. Noticing the small figure of Wilhelm delivering the package in the dark of night, Ogg confronts him only to find time/space fold in on itself. With another try, he simply lifts the delivered package, replacing it with the intended dessert parcel.

With all as it should be, Wilhelm begins the installation of his prototype telescope onto the deck of the Callehad.

The companions spend the rest of their first night in the city of Boros advancing their own personal tasks. Cone morning, they convene on the deck of the Callehad, where an attendant to Castien hand delivers a message from the absent Captain.

He had gained an appointment with Edwin McGuillicutty, a decadent noble and power player in the City of Boros. Castien had suggested that Edwin had at his estate a rather thorough collection of literature on the region. Perhaps it could illuminate clues in their search for Sytheria?

They continue to the McGuillicutty Estate, where the corpulent Edwin offers access to his stores of knowledge if the companions agree to register for the Boros Tournament under the McGuillicutty banner. After stone discussion they agree.

They are immediately ushered to the arena, where they barely make late registration. They agree to contend with the blunted weapons provided and within the hour they find themselves walking up a Sandy ramp from under the structure to the colosseum floor.

Introduced as the Singing Swords for House McGuillicutty, they face off against a powerful figure known only as Helios, fighting for ‘The Concord’. Helios, a heavily armored warrior with the ability to levitate, fold the space around him and control several suspended swords that he uses both for attacking his target and protection.

After an intense battle in which Elbanor shatters a derelict sword, Helios is defeated.

While the rest of the group depart, Elbanor lingers to see what the commotion it’s on the stands. He gives medical aid to a dragonkin merchant who had caught shrapnel from the arena while spectating the bout.

The next day they find themselves pitted against a gnomish tinkerer and his steam golem. They find that not only does it pack a heavy lunch, but the gnome that shields himself inside is able to spew forth a napalm substance, turning the arena into an inferno.

They eventually crack his protective layer and the tinkerer submits. Pleased with his preliminary results, he mentions looking forward to facing off against them with his Mk.II in next year’s tourney.

Moving on to the finals, the group side to stay and watch the rest of the semi finals. They witness a lithe warrior mounted on a great worm beast facing of against some sort of ferocious canine combatant paired with a downright violent looking minotaur gladiator.

Though the lithe warrior and his pet worm fought well, they were ultimately defeated. The group found out in graphic detail that if they were fighting on the terms ood Jaa’kuu and Kazz the Minotaur, it would be a fight to the death.

With the morning came a sense of unease. One way or another, the companions make their way to the colosseum for the last time.

After a bit of pageantry, the match begins. True to form, Kazz barrels into the group, swinging his maul in dealt arcs. Jaa’kuu closes in on Thaddeus, trying to dispatch the wizard. Og and Sayer are left to keep the minotaur occupied.

Just as the beast man begins a vicious assault on the magic user, Wobblegrinder blasts him with force energy, covering him on a layer of kinetic stasis.

Sayer it’s beaten back by the minotaur and is fortuitously lifted on a raising pillar. He slips off the other side, disengaging completely. Noticing a few jeers from the crowd, he turns to address them with arms raised. A wooden goblet is hurled from the stands and he deftly catches it in his grasp, retaining almost all of the liquid within. With a flourish he gulps down the draft, bows quickly and returns to the fray.

Meanwhile On’Ogg is left to deal with the full ferocity of Kazz. The minotaur feints aside and casts down his greatmaul, pulling the paladin into his grip, battering him against the column and the ground.

Recovering his position atop the column, Sayer vaults onto the back of the preoccupied minotaur, cling on as Kazz barrels forward in an attempt to gore Ogg.

The group take the next two days to convalesce on the Callehad. Captain Castien informed everyone that their coarse to Aelostrian has been changed in light of the recent events. They would be waylaid in the city of Boros while awaiting further directives.

Sayer spent time making acquaintance with a few of the more raucous soldiers, learning quickly a game of chance popular to the crew.

Thadeous made company with Hopscotch alone; each were content to pour over the rare tomes in the Captain’s study in peace and quiet.

Intrigued by another man of faith, On’ogg silent much out his time speaking with Elbanor who, on the Captain’s good advice, kept mostly to his cabin.

When not answering the many questions Ogg had for him, Elbanor pondered his recent meeting with the Captain, who divulged some information on why his presence was requested on the ship.

Akasha called on the Captain frequently. For many hours they talked of Aelostrian, each feeling a longing for their homeland.

~

The morning that they were expected to arrive in Boros brought change in weather. Fierce winds whipped about the Callehad, those who weren’t already on deck soon found their way up to the main level to assess the situation. It seemed that all of the crew were present, for all the commotion.

The sun was rising in the east, glittering over the ocean. Straight ahead lay the city of Boros, just waking up to greet the morning. It seemed nuzzled against the steep incline of cliff wall stretching westward, for from that direction rolled storm clouds, barreling towards the coast.

The crew seemed to ignore the companions completely, each elf focused on their own individual task. Castien shouted orders from the helm.

Just then the vessel pitched to the port side; towards the storm! With each moment, the Callehad was pulled towards disaster.

Sayer ran to the Captain, anxious to assist if he can. The language barrier was shattered by the emergency. The two experienced sailors went about finding the problem.

Akasha took time to help Ogg, who seemed to be donning an emergency parachute around his head (and upside down).

Wobblegrinder threw a shimmering cape about his shoulders. He clung to the railing and with a tentative glimpse over the side, began judging his current position in relation to the rocky ground below. For safe measure, he produced a small tablet and quill with ink and began scribbling calculations of geometric formulae.

Seeing a crewman clinging to the outer rigging, apparently dislodged by the violent winds, Elbanor quickly climbed up the inner side and held fast the elf. Together they gained footing in the thick ropes, clinging on as the ship barreled on.

Finding the starboard rudder disengaged, Sayer and Castien made to dislodge the mechanism. After a moment’s deliberation, the Captain conceded to Sayer, securing a rope around the swashbuckler. After a deep breath Sayer swings over the side of the ship, penduluming skillfully towards the extended rudder.

He misjudged the landing slightly, falling forward on the platform and clutching to the forward edge. Maneuvering to his feet, he tries to readjust the with brute force, without satisfactory results. The rain begins falling in sheets.

Taking a moment to assess the leverage, Sayer then jumps and brings all his wait down to stomp on the rear of the rudder.

The sound of metal grinding blasts out as the rudder shifts into position, engaging directly against the force winds. The whole vessel catches against the wind sending many to the deck. Castien holds fast the rope against the shift, but is thrown himself thrown aside as Sayer slides off of the back end of the rudder. With tremendous strain, he pulls the rope right against Sayer in freefall. Several feet below the ship now, Sayer clings on to the lifeline.

Ogg seeing the Captain struggling from his back side to pull the rope back up, moves quickly to assist. Together they pull Sayer up aboard the ship, much to his appreciation.

With their coarse corrected, and only minutes from the tower docks, the Callehad transitions for landing. The large blimp above deflates slightly and the upper crown lowers to cap the main deck. Heavy ties are flung over the rails and fetched by the ground crew, securing the vessel to the cliff side dock towers.

~

The companions wait out the storm on the Callehad. Within the hour it had blown out into the open ocean. Disembarking, they walk among streets soon filled with excitement. There’s certainly a charge in the air, not least of it residuals from the lightning storm. Drops of rainwater still dripp hear and there, radiating the morning rays of sunlight as they fell.

The citizens of Boros seemed no worse from the weather. Indeed the mood was jovial and the streets soon became crowded with peoples moving about to and fro. The activity seemed somewhat robust for the early hour, even for a city of this size.

The companions inquired with a passer by and found out that Boros was celebrating the 3rd day of a week long festival honoring the summer solstice. Revelry was certainly in the air; judging from the patrons of several nearby outdoor cafes, many people had not let the stormy weather postpone their early start.

Considering how a festival of this size would attract visitors from all around, Ogg decides to attempt to contact Hergen Blaythe.

Figuring one spot as good as the next, they such into a nearby cafe. After a time they make it forward to order beverages and are greeted by a disembodied, if somewhat familiar voice accompanied by the grinding sound of something heavy being dragged on the stone work floor.

Behind the bar a bouncing Baatu clambers onto a heavy stool jauntily sliding filthy pints down the wooden surface while addressing the companions with a wide grin.

He has little answer in response to Ogg’s direct questions, but does respond to Elbanor’s request for a heavy cloak. The young cleric has little by way of gold, instead offers a trade if possible. Baatu’s eyes glimmer with cunning as he considers.

Baatu offers his very own cloak to trade for Elbanor’s crossbow; with the condition that Baatu can borrow (just for the moment) the cleric’s rather shiny holy symbol. Elbanor agrees.

In a flurry of movement, Baatu fixes the symbol into the receiver of the crossbow, sounds around and takes aim. He fires the hunk of metal across the room thumping into the back of a brawny hulk of a man.

The next moment Baatu produced a think fold of cloth and tossed it haphazardly in Elbanor’s general direction. Donning again his cap, and winking slyly at Akasha he slipped away, quickly losing himself in the crowd outside.

~

The large man bound his way across the room to the companions, returning Elbanor’s symbol. Sayer thoughtfully diffused the tension with the purchase of several beverages. Upon interaction, the guy ended up being a smithy from out of town, visiting for the festival like so many others.

He knew of Hergen as an old acquaintance, but had not seen him in quite some time. It was entirely possible, he pondered, that the bohemian dwarf might be in Boros somewhere.

The group made their way towards a large open market, host to many visiting merchants. Cutting across a quiet alley, they took notice of a particularly gaudy poster that was plastered over much of the walled surfaces.

“Ivan Ivanovich’s ”/wikis/the-bacchanal-of-oddities-and-antiquities" class=“wiki-page-link”> Bacchanal of Oddities and Antiquities" seemed to be staged nearby during the festival, offering a host of fascinating and astonishing sideshows. Akasha snatches a poster from the wall, eyes round as saucers. On a panic, she darts back into the throng of people.

Without much explanation to the strange behavior, the group press on, confident in her ability to take care of herself.

They find Hergen giving a sculpting demonstration to a rather boisterous crowd. After a hearty getting, he sees to Ogg’s request. In a days time, can fashion the accumulated pieces of armor that Ogg provides into a cohesive set.

The group then split to follow their own plans. Ogg and Elbenor find their way to a church, finding only lowly acolytes and attendants. Any noteworthy members of the faith had deities elsewhere during the festival.

Thaddeus spent time lingering in the small library adjacent to Captain Castien’s quarters on the Callehad. Sayer spent the evening getting raucously drunk at Thal’efft Bar, where he woke the next morning under a table.

~

Akasha flew through the streets, faces a blur as she passed them in her panic. Before long, she found herself thoroughly lost. Inquiring with a passerby, she begins trying to make her way towards the open air market. Perhaps there in the wide open she could feel a little safer. Seeing a couple harmless townsfolk in a nearby passageway, she ducks in to collect her thoughts. Suddenly, the townsfolk halt what they were doing and turn towards her. Waves of dread crash over her as she sees that there is a smooth, wooden flatness where their faces should be.

Several of the dummies engage, attempting to subdue. She screams for help while agilely avoids their dull grasps. The young elf blasts out a wave of flame in desperation, setting several dummies ablaze. She notices shutters from the nearby windows fling open in response to her pleas for help and moves to position herself nearer to her saviors. With a dismal sinking of her heart, Akasha watches as several more marionettes fling themselves out the window.

A heavy thud knocks against the back of her head and she falls to the ground. Through the skinny, wooden legs of the marionettes she watches yet another approach, a coil of rope thrown over it’s shoulder.

The companions take their leave from the being who calls himself Eomar. Though many questions were answered, even more took form. Moving forward on a path that seemed to guide them along, they were soon taunted by the voice of a mysterious female figure. They eventually came upon a portal, and one by one they stepped through.

A blur of colors enveloped each of the companions as they were pulled back through from beyond, back to the a familiar reality. As their boots fell back to solid ground, they companions found themselves back in the Temple of Khar’Kuut. An indeterminable amount of time had passed, as the position of the sun had moved drastically. The anomoly could little be pondered, for the group found themselves surrounded by orderly ranks of archers, bow and arrows at the ready.

The figures seemed to be elvish in nature, their slender frames garbed in chain mail and light leathers. A tabard flowing with deep blue and embroidered with copper thread was common between each, suggesting a uniform of sorts. A particularly grim elf stood in their path, wearing a set of plate armor rarely seen among elvish warriors. At his side was a lightly robed elf with the face markings of a powerful magus.

The heavily armored elf addresses them in his native language, only Akasha and Wobblegrinder able to understand him completely. It’s his intent to place them in custody under the jurisdiction of the Legion of Aelosus, for questioning in connection to a dangerous fugitive believed to be operating in the area.

Much of the group is bewildered by the situation, the language barrier further clouding any sense. Noting the hesitation in some of the party, the magus steps forward.

In common, with a thick elven accentuation, he harks to the group, “Tread carefully …friends. If you intend to cross the path of one whose soul is so intricately woven into the realm of the arcane, I would not suggest you do it lightly.”

Unleashing a pulse of energy from his outstretched hands, the companions feel a wave of lethargy rush over them. Akasha, Thaddeus and Sayer slump into a deep, magic induced sleep. On’Ogg falls to a knee, resisting the power of the spell with all his energy. He reaches out to the closest compatriot. Feeling a heartbeat on Akasha, he breaths a sigh of relief.

Ogg turns his gaze upward to find the magus standing above him, a raised eyebrow indicating the only emotion on the elf’s face. The spellbinder raises hand once again, pouring forth another wave and Ogg’s world goes black.

Part 2

Thaddeus, Ogg and Sayer wake in adjoining cells, watched over by elvish guardsmen. Their jailers seem little interested in interacting with them.

Akasha wakes somewhere removed, in rather well kept quarters. She’s takes time to utilize the facilities; bathing and donning the clothes folded neatly on the nearby bassinet.

Ogg and Sauer antagonize their calories, drawing their ire as well as reinforcements. Wobble tries unsuccessfully to reason with them. The guard lieutenant arrives. A small melee ensues as the guards open the cells to subdue the prisoners.

Meanwhile Akasha is startled to make her way out onto the deck of a ship high above the clouds. They’ve been brought onto a mid-sized airship!

Elbanor, feeling much like a prisoner in his own right, blows open his chamber door. A pair of guards, quick to react, move in and engage with their human ‘guest’. With a blast of powerful magic, he knocks then unconscious. Moving through a ship seemingly bereft of many of the crew he had witnessed in days past, he follows the sound of shouting to the lower decks.

Part 3

The companions in the cells have reached a kind of stalemate. The guards have agreed to send their appeal to the Captain, if they cooperate and return to their cells. During the interim, the companions had managed to blockade themselves inside what seemed to be a supply closest, negotiating as Sayer threatened to detonate a goblin explosive be found among his gear.

Elbanor heard some of this from outside the chamber. Resigned to action, he shattered the door frame, intent to aid what he viewed to be other oppressed passengers on the ship. The blast wreaked havoc in the confined quarters, sending guardsmen violently against the nearby walls.

With a rush of activity, not least of which Thaddeus holding fast the lot of guards, the companions seize control of the situation.

~

Thoroughly refreshed, Akasha returns to the master chambers, stumbling upon Castien Vauldra alone in his cabin.

She denies any affiliation with Sytheria; The Captain persists that all will come to light when she is questioned properly back in Aelostrian.

She eventually mentions being a defender of the being known as Eomar, which affects Castien deeply. With this strange group having known the name Eomar… the elven commander was more inclined to believe their story.

~

Below deck, the group began freeing the elven soldiers; a sign of their good intentions.

Just then, the elf who addressed then back at the Ruins of Khar’Kuut strode into the chamber, followed by a rather concerned Akasha. Quickly assessing the situation, he ordered his soldiers to stand down and attend to their comrade. One of the soldiers still lay crumbled next to the wall, his slender neck twisted awkwardly.

With this new information brought to light, Captain Castien granted them safe passage, assuming their continued cooperation.

With their newfound leave on the ship, the group followed the Captain back to the main deck. Those coming from the brigg were surprised to find the ship floating high above the ground, sailing among the clouds.

The companions wake to find a quiet chill in the air after a fitful sleep, hazy images of their encounter with the Lost Sinner still fresh in their minds. The slightest boot scrape on the pavement sends echoes reverberating through the halls, and the companions stifle their movements, loathe to disturb the silence.

Creeping out from their hiding, they return to the rectory. Finding the cultists still in their sorry state, they converse on what to do with the empty shells. If they did in fact lack their soul, wasn’t it a mercy to end this suffering? Perhaps even their duty? On’ogg certainly believed so. Sayer agreed. After what he had experienced the day before when attempting to read their thoughts, he longed to end this cruel existence.

The young elf could not accept this fate, though she know not how else to proceed. With a perturbed frown across his face, Thadeous guided her up and out of the dismal Halls of Want, leaving Ogg and Sayer to complete their task alone, their faces set with grim determination.

The paladin stood over each, whispering a litany of mercy for their souls as the not-so-jovial rogue opened their throats. Their resistance was minimal. None seemed aware of what was happening until Sayer pulled their heads back, more to accept the blade. Even then, the husks only flailed their arms back impotently against his expert actions.

~

While they have a moment to themselves, Thadeous takes the opportunity to have a conversation with Hopscotch, with the help of Akasha translating. He confirms himself to be a magic user, though he doesn’t divulge where he learned his craft. He also

After a time, the footsteps of Ogg and Sayer could be heard climbing the stairs back to the antechamber, where Akasha and Thadeous were awaiting their return. Coming again level with their waiting friends, they were surprised to see the elf and the gnome gazing at them with a look of shock. Only then did each notice the splatters of blood speckling their armor.